


Watcher Orphans

by pat_t



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 20:30:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8938042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pat_t/pseuds/pat_t
Summary: The Watchers are being hacked, and Immortal heads are disappearing.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dkwilliams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dkwilliams/gifts).



> I want to thank my tireless and compassionate beta who never lets me down. Elistaire (Tray) is always patient and supportive with her suggestions and catching my mistakes.
> 
> I couldn't do this without her. 
> 
> Admittedly, with my OCD, I did go back occasionally and edit, finding things myself that I wanted to change. In fact, today we lost a comma, and three words were changed. *shrugs*. I ran them by Tray to seek her approval.
> 
> Lastly, I would like to mention that in my imagination and all my stories, this is my Methos and Duncan: 

  
**~~PROLOGUE~~**  


Jim Beason clicked the “shut down” link to his mom’s computer, and smiled as the Watcher Emblem drew to black. His “new” brother was leaning against the door jam, clearly bored and antsy for him to hurry up. Ever since their parents began dating the boys had been hanging out, finding it hysterical that they’d both been breaking into their parent’s Watcher database for years.

Lee Carlson pulled a joint from his shirt pocket almost the second the front door pulled shut. Once lit, he pulled a hefty draw into his lungs and handed it off to Jim who took a draw in turn. Half-way to their new hide-out, an abandoned house a view blocks away, doubt started to niggle in Jim’s mind. 

He turned toward Lee who was smiling, already mellowed out as he’d been smoking weed a good part of the afternoon before their parents got home. As it happened, their time together should have been limited since neither parent presently had an assignment. But luckily the two senior Watchers were only interested in each other these days, and hardly noticed if the boys were home most of the time or not. 

“Look, man. I’m not so sure this is a good idea.” At five-foot-ten Jim was the smaller of the two, slender, yet with the musculature and dark good looks that suggested he would be an incredibly good looking man once he matured. But now, at age seventeen, he still tended to be a bit gawky and unsure of himself. 

He was nothing like Lee, who at six-foot-one, with dark blonde hair that swept down his back to his shoulder blades, already thought he ruled the world. Even though he was clearly high, his dark brown eyes were still shrewd when he turned to glare at Jim.

“What the fuck is your problem? You were all in when we set this up.” 

Jim stopped in his tracks, forcing his eighteen-year-old friend to stop as well. He could tell from Lee’s body language and expression that he was getting pissed off, but he was more scared of what they were planning to do. “Yeah, I was,” he admitted. “But to start screwing around with Immortals? Fuck, Lee. We’re not even supposed to know they exist.” 

“Well, we do. And don’t act so damn innocent. You were breaking into your mom’s computer for years before we even met. And why not have a little fun? It’s not like anyone will know.” 

“And if they find out?” Jim said a bit too loudly. Seeing his new brother’s warning scowl, he lowered his voice. “Look, I know we can do it, but what about the other guys? How do we know they’ll have their shit together? It’s one thing to screw around with the Watcher files. But this … man, we could get into some serious trouble.” 

Lee grinned and pushed Jim playfully on the shoulder to get him moving again. “Come on. Stop being paranoid. We’re not going to get caught. I know it sounds whacked, but what’s the big deal? The Watchers are just going to dispose of them anyway.” 

Jim shrugged. “Okay, I know you’re right, but it’s still weird. This whole thing is. How did you even meet these guys anyway?”

“I told you. My dad let me tag along when he went to New York. The next thing I know, I’m at a party, and everyone there is a fucking Watcher’s kid. Then a few guys started talking about this idea they had. Yeah, it’s dangerous, but that’s what makes it fun. I think they started out with more people, but the others chickened out. So, they invited me in. Hey, it’s cool. Like I said, what’s the fucking big deal anyway? The Immortals are the ones chopping off each other’s head.”

“Yeah, well what if someone screws up? Their parents may actually be paying attention,” Jim countered sharply. “Then it’s everyone’s ass.”

“Bullshit. I checked their folks out in the databases. They’re just like all the Watchers; they think we're stupid. Like no one’s ever noticed the dopey tattoos they have on their wrists. Everyone at that party had already hacked into the Watcher database at least once. It’s never occurred to any of the Watchers that we might know what’s going on.”

Jim thought about that for a moment. Lee had a point.

Lee laughed. “A couple of guys have already been messing around the local Watcher’s Headquarters in New York. One said he’s broken in a couple of times. He’s like this big-time hacker, and he figured out how to get into their security system. There was one hot piece of ass who was already getting off on the idea of being that close to an Immortal. You should have seen this girl. Hell, she was completely crazy.”

“You’re an arrogant asshole, you know that? Someday a woman is going to cut off your balls,” Jim said angrily, and sped up, putting some space between them. Maybe it was because he and his mom had been alone for so long, but it pissed him off to hear Lee talk that way about women.

It took only a moment before Lee’s long strides brought them back side to side. “Look, I’m sorry, okay. Keep your voice down. I didn’t mean anything by it. The girl was hot, that’s all. I’m pretty sure she’s in with the New York team.” 

“Okay … just … stop with your crap. I’m spooked enough as it is.”

“Hey, I told you I’m sorry. I’ll knock it off … for now,” Lee added with a smug grin. 

Jim shook his head and decided to let the matter drop. He was just nervous. It was a hell of a thing to get upset about, considering what they were planning to do. 

Instead, he took a deep calming breath and turned his thoughts inward. This was it. Time was running out, and he needed to either shelve his concerns or back out.

He glanced at his step-brother. Hell, Lee wasn’t forcing him. He’d been just as excited as the rest of the team when he found out what they wanted to do. “Okay. I was just having some second thoughts, that’s all. I’m fine now.”

They walked a bit further while Jim went over everything in his head. Once he had every contingency worked out, he knew his anxiety would abate. He could do this.

“Hey.” He turned back to Lee. “Did we ever decide what the prize would be?” 

“Not yet. But that’s part of the game. The winning team gets to decide. Just remember, there has to be proof. We know these guys won’t give us up if they get caught. They’re in this just as much as we are, but that doesn’t mean I trust them not to cheat.” 

“Pictures?”

“At least. The plan to make it look like a satanic cult was genius. It’s the perfect way to get rid of the evidence. It’ll drive the cops crazy when they can’t place the Immortal’s DNA. Come on. We need to make sure we have everything in place. The challenge starts Saturday at midnight.” 

“Okay, you’re right. I’m all in,” Jim added with a flourish. This did beat the hell out of the bullshit video games his friends were all caught up in. He began ticking off the rules in his head: four teams with four people to a team, each region with a two-hundred-mile radius, all teams responsible for keeping score, proof of retrieval and extra points for the team having the most believable set-up for getting rid of their heads. 

Their team had done their research and worked hard to set up their site. It was pure luck when their oldest member, Nick, found the iron pot that would easily pass for a satanic cauldron. Even if their hiding place was discovered, it would never be traced back to them, and the press would have a field day. They had it covered.

Turning onto a side street, they shot across a yard to an uninhabited house standing dark and ominous in the otherwise lively subdivision. The lock on the back door was already busted when they discovered the home, so they quickly entered, grabbed a kerosine lamp they'd stashed earlier, and headed down to the cellar from the entranceway in the kitchen. The house was cold and stark without electricity. Jim couldn’t help but think how fitting that was considering their own morbid activities. 

**~~NOW~~**

The dew was heavy and slick on the grass, turning the slowly evolving shades of fall into something sinister and foreboding as wisps of fog shadowed the area around him. In the driver's seat of his handicapped-enabled car, Joe Dawson scowled when the hot coffee slid down his throat too quickly, scalding the tender membranes and leaving a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. Damn lighter fluid would taste better, he thought peevishly. Truth be known, he would rather be sitting in the comfortable confines of his own SUV instead of the dank Watcher rental car he was currently inhabiting. An annoying tinge of age and mildew tickled his nose, and he was sure he could taste it in his mouth as he took another, more cautious sip of the foul liquid the last drive-through had laughingly called coffee. 

Picking up his cell, he punched in the numbers that would reach his voice mail. Lifting the palm-sized device to his ear, he listened carefully, trying to register anything in the voice of the anonymous caller that might shed light on his identity or the reason for his cryptic message. 

It had been simple and to the point. Go to a house at 429 Main Street. There was something of interest he needed to find before it was too late. Well, obviously, it was too damn late, Joe thought, as the Medical Examiner’s van pulled in amidst a stream of police vehicles. Luckily, the sirens and lights had warned him of their arrival before he had time to break into the house and snoop around. 

Exhaling a snort of disgust, he tossed his phone across the seat and picked up his binoculars. A swipe across the inside of the lens temporarily wiped away the condensation, and he settled back, resigned to the task of monitoring the activity half a block away from his concealed vantage point. Yeah, real cloak and dagger, he thought with disgust. He knew there was a reason he had given up field work. 

Now he looked on, his back and stumps crying out from the stress of sitting in the car far too long. He tried not to think about how many hours he’d been up without sleep, and he sure as hell didn’t want to ruminate on how many hours his stumps had been throbbing inside the socket of his prosthesis. 

Finally, admitting defeat, he started the car and eased away from the scene. Whatever had been in that house had already been found and it was obvious the police and Medical Examiner had no intention of leaving the area anytime soon.

****~~*~~****

Duncan sent the lift down to the first floor of the dojo, the clank and grind of the cables an irritating synchronicity to the obscure message his Watcher had left on his voicemail moments before. It wasn’t long before the lift returned to the loft and he walked hurriedly to raise the gate for his friend. 

“Joe.” Duncan nodded at the man entering his home, the tap of his cane overloud on the hardwood floor as he ambled toward the stools at the kitchen island. 

“Want a cup of coffee?” Duncan offered, his brows creasing with a frown as he studied the man who was now carefully shifting his weight onto a stool. There was something off about his friend, and it never bode well when Joe showed up looking so grim. 

His Watcher had come to the loft before with that same worry and fatigue in the undertones of his voice. Usually that foretold news of a friend’s death. A lover’s death. _“Immortals die too.”_ Methos was right. It wasn’t just mortal lovers who died; they always had a finite amount of time. Yet, even with the violence that was a part of his life, and the never-ending fight that always found him, the loss of an Immortal lover was always a shock. 

“It’ll be a few minutes before breakfast,” Duncan added slowly. “You’re more than welcome to join us.” 

“Nah, thanks anyway, Mac. I’ve been up all night and I just want to go home and get some sleep.” Joe shifted uneasily on the stool and looked around the loft. It didn’t escape Duncan’s attention that his Watcher had yet to take off his coat or relinquish his cane to the smooth porcelain base of the island. “Where’s the old man?”

“He went to the corner market to grab some bread and cheese. Sorry we weren’t able to answer your call. Methos forgot to charge his cell, and mine was still in my coat pocket. By the time I reached it, you had already left the message that you were coming over.” A nod of understanding was his only answer and Duncan sighed. Enough of this. He had already weighed all the possibilities in his mind, and the silence was pissing him off. “Joe, just spit it out. What the hell is going on?”

“Sorry, Mac, but I think it’s better if we wait for Methos. I’m not up to explaining this more than once.” 

Luckily, that argument was put to rest quickly as the side door opened, admitting one chilled and damp old immortal carrying a paper bag filled with food. Knowing Methos was eerily aware of his surroundings, and able to pick up on the mood of a room in hardly a breath, Duncan wasn’t surprised when Methos paused and looked around, his eyes narrowing as he studied them both.

“Someone want to fill me in,” Methos asked, his tone belying little as he began the mundane task of sorting the groceries out on the counter. 

Taking his cue from his lover, Duncan began putting the items away, and answered with a shrug. “I’m not sure, but Joe has some news he wanted to share once you got back.” 

Methos turned his attention to their friend. By his expression, Duncan knew Methos had picked up on the fatigue in the deepening lines of the older man’s face as Joe grasped the handle of his cane like a lifeline. 

“Look, this is kind of sensitive and I need you both to listen to everything before you jump to any conclusions. Okay?” 

“You’ve got our word. Let’s get this over with then,” Duncan acquiesced casually as he slid the final item into the cabinet. Turning, he caught his lover’s eyes in a silent question. Methos shook his head slowly. Evidently, the other man didn’t know what was going on either. Odd though. Usually Methos kept close tabs on the Watchers and there was very little he wasn’t apprised of. 

Feeling the need to diffuse the situation quickly, Duncan reached for Joe’s cane, gently easing away the man’s grip on the handle as he set it aside. “Take your coat off, Joe. Something tells me this is going to take a while.” He turned toward Methos, noting that his lover’s former wariness was now replaced with a worried regard that matched his own.

****~~~~~****

A long sigh of resignation, and Joe removed his coat and shifted his gaze from one man to the other as he relayed his tale. And so it began, with the message he had received on his phone, followed by the police activity at the scene when he’d finally pulled onto the street leading up to the house. 

Then he told them about the secret he had been holding onto for the past two months. 

“Immortal heads have been disappearing,” Joe said simply, already tensing against the verbal blow he expected to come from both men. Relieved when they remained silent, he continued with a little more confidence. “It took a while for us to piece together all the information since it was occurring in more than one area over a period of time.” 

“Mortals are hunting us again?” Duncan asked, incredulous and chilling, as he motioned them all to the the living room.

Joe shook his head. He’d expected Mac’s anger. Hell, the man had a right to be pissed. Duncan had lost Darius to mortal Hunters. He’d lost Tessa. It wasn’t particularly comforting, but at least Joe could assure both Immortals that wasn’t the case. Well, as far as he knew anyway. 

“Look, I’ll tell you everything the Watchers know. Unfortunately, it’s damn little. We don’t even know who some of the Immortals were, or who took their heads. Not all Immortals have a Watcher; they’re too dangerous. For the ones who do, not all Watchers are able to keep tabs on their assignments. At least not all the time.” 

Seeing the look of disdain cross Mac’s face, he moved quickly to qualify his answer. “Hold on, Mac. Watchers have lives too. They can’t keep their Immortal under surveillance twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.” He paused, expecting annoyance, not the look of amusement that traveled between the two men. What the hell was that about? 

He looked pointedly at Methos. “When we do know about a challenge, once the quickening is over, and the surviving Immortal leaves the area, one of the Watchers calls for a clean-up crew. From there they take the dead Immortal to the morgue at the Watcher Headquarters. Then we contact one of our crematoriums. Once we get the ‘all clear’, the Immortal is transferred for cremation. Here’s where it gets really strange.” 

“Let me guess,” Methos interjected sourly. “When it was time for cremation, some of the Immortals were lacking their heads.” 

“Got it in one, buddy.” Joe exhaled a long breath. 

“Headquarters is usually heavily guarded. What about security cameras? Don’t you think it’s odd that no one has seen anything abnormal, or the security tapes haven’t picked up any suspicious activity?” Duncan asked, appearing less agitated as he began working through the situation.

“No, and that’s another reason we’re hitting a brick wall. Security hasn’t seen anything out of the ordinary. But, we do know the security cameras have been tampered with from a remote area. Whoever’s orchestrating this knows exactly what he’s doing. Even our best people haven’t been able to trace the IP address back to the source.”

“Why is this the first time we’ve heard about it, Joe?” Duncan asked. “How can you know for sure this isn’t the Watchers - or the work of another Immortal?”

“I wish I could give you a definitive answer, Mac. I’ve gathered up the Watchers I know I can trust, and we’ve gone through all the files we can get our hands on. There’s damn little information to go on. But, for now, all the Watchers we’ve checked are clean.”

“You didn’t know about Horton. A Watcher could be collecting Immortal heads as some kind of a sick joke … or as trophies,” Methos said in a soft voice that was dangerous all the same. 

Joe scrubbed at his face tiredly. “I know, Methos. I know. If anything, that’s why we’re being more diligent. Nobody is beyond suspicion. Trust me, we learned a lot from Horton.” 

“Glad our pain was so helpful to your little organization of voyeurs, Dawson,” Duncan said sarcastically, even as he retrieved a beer for each man before sitting back on the couch, tension in every muscle as he settled next to his lover’s seemingly relaxed sprawl. Joe knew better. 

Methos looked at them both thoughtfully. “Maybe it isn’t a Watcher. It’s possible that an unknown Immortal is shadowing us. Like you said; you don’t have a Watcher on everyone.” 

“I thought of that too, Methos. But all the Watchers who witnessed the fights said there was no indication that their Immortals felt another Immortal in the area either before or during the challenge.” 

“It wouldn’t be the first time an Immortal used a mortal to do his dirty work,” Duncan offered, his anger resurfacing. 

Dammit, Joe thought. He knew Mac was remembering how Horton and Xavier St. Cloud had used mortals to gun down Immortals so St. Cloud could take their heads. Some of the Immortals were Mac’s friends. 

Hell, it was just as much his fault as Horton’s. He’d helped his brother-in-law to escape, letting Mac think Horton was dead. But, as much as Joe knew he deserved both men’s ire, he prayed they wouldn’t unleash it on him. Not while this shit was going down. He prepared to forge ahead. God, he was tired. 

Methos turned to face Duncan. “What would be the point? It doesn’t appear that anyone is interfering in the fight. The only objective seems to be stealing the head once the challenge has ended and the body has been recovered.” 

“That’s true,” Duncan agreed. “But somebody knows too much. The question now is who that is. Joe, any ideas on who may have left you that voice mail?” 

“I’ve got nothing, Mac, and that’s the real crux of the matter. Someone knew to send me to that house. But were they sending me to find out what was going on….”

“Or were they setting you up?” Methos finished Joe’s thought. “It isn’t paranoia if the other guy is really out to get you,” Methos added with a smirk. 

Joe studied both men. The last thing he needed was for them to barrel in halfcocked before they knew what kind of maniac was stealing Immortal heads. Not to mention that he still didn’t know who had left him the message, or why he’d been sent to the house that morning. At the very least, they might never be able to find the guy. At the very worst, one or both his friends could lose his head. 

“Guys, I know you’re pissed and I don’t blame you. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything, but I thought you needed to know what’s going on. But let us handle this, okay? Don’t put yourselves out there for this lunatic.” With a sigh, he carefully balanced himself out of his chair. He was too old for this. His back and stumps hurt like hell and he just wanted to sleep. He only hoped the two Immortals would listen to him for once. After all, there was a first time for everything. _Shit!_

~~~~~

Both men watched as Joe entered the lift and pushed the button that would gear up the elevator to take him down to the first floor. The clank and squeal of the cables had barely receded when Duncan turned to his ancient lover. The question was unspoken when the other man met his eyes with a steely glare.

“Not on your bloody life!”

~~*~~

Special Agent Andrea Lease of the FBI, deposited her suitcase next to her bed at the moderately priced hotel room in downtown Seacouver. She had just arrived, her travel expedited by the early morning events. In a huff, she sat down and fished her phone out of her purse. She needed to check in with her boss. Well, one of her bosses. Her boss at the FBI thought she was investigating the double murder uncovered that morning in an abandoned house in Seacouver. Normally, this wouldn’t have been on the FBI’s radar. It was only the “Satanic Cult” aspect that had brought her onboard. 

No, she needed to get in touch with the Watcher’s Regional Director, Roy Benson. In truth, she didn’t like the man. While not completely incompetent, he should never have been promoted to such an important position. In fact, it was one of his screw-ups that put the entire organization in this position -- and possibly, the cause of a young man’s life being cut short. 

For, the murdered woman wasn’t an ordinary citizen. She was an Immortal. Now they were all at risk. Fortunately, one of the first responders was a Watcher, and he had recognized the female victim on sight. Knowing the Immortal in question was under her Director’s purview, Benson had been contacted immediately. With her FBI credentials, it was only natural for the Watchers to move her into position to handle the investigation. 

Now she had to balance the goals and outcomes of both her roles: Special Agent Andrea Lease of the FBI, and Andrea Lease, Watcher for the Northeast Region of the United States. 

Kicking off her shoes, she fluffed up two pillows to support her upper body, and reclined back on the bed. She might as well get comfortable, she thought. Even without enough sleep, she still hadn't been able to rest on the long flight to Seacouver. Taking some cleansing breaths, she felt some of her tension melting away as she thought back to the events that changed her life forever. 

****

~~~~~

She’d already been with the FBI for over a decade. From the beginning, she loved the work she did for the bureau, yet there was no reason to deny it. She had always worked a little harder, tried to be more vigilant and more proactive than her caucasian counterparts. Rather it was perceived or real, she had always felt the weight of her race bearing down on her, even more so when she joined the FBI academy. It wasn’t anything overt, and she couldn’t point out any single person or incident, but there was always that feeling that she was being watched – and evaluated. 

She was proud of her natural instincts and innate ability to quickly assess a situation and act accordingly. Not that the agents she worked with weren’t capable. She worked with some of the most intelligent and skilled people the agency had to offer. Yet, she was astute by nature, and it never occurred to her to second guess herself when she followed a suspect to an abandoned train station in Northern Virginia. 

She stayed far enough behind to keep from being detected, yet close enough that she could see when he reached the station and stopped by the railway track. It didn’t take long for her to find a secluded area with a good line of sight. 

It was thought that the suspect was involved with a human trafficking ring, but the bureau could never find the _smoking gun_ they needed to break the case and put the men away. If her instincts were right, the suspect would lead her to another member of their organization, and the FBI would be one step closer to obtaining the evidence they needed to start closing in.

Looking back now, the things that stuck in her mind was how cold it was, the little puffs of air when she breathed out, the comfort of her Glock as she held it at the ready in case she was spotted, the wetness seeping into her jeans as she kneeled on the ground. The waiting … for someone to show up … for something to happen … for her to finally make her move and get the evidence her team needed ….

Although she hadn’t seen or heard anyone else approaching, her subject tensed, then turned toward the shadows as another man walked out, wearing dark clothing, a long leather coat, and brandishing a sword. Seemingly out of nowhere, her suspect pulled out a sword and the two men began to battle. 

Dusk was falling, and the fight accelerated, becoming more brutal as darkness threatened. The swords clanked and scraped against each other as both men grunted and pressed, kicked out and danced away, only to return with a ferocity that was met with equal fervor. 

Then the unthinkable happened, and the second man’s head hit the ground as his body fell with a heavy thud. She stood, her Glock held steady, as she began to ease away from her hiding place to approach the scene. Her suspect had fallen to one knee, his bloodied sword laid down beside him. He turned, and their eyes caught for one brief moment before she was thrown to the ground by a force of unrestrained, blinding energy.

She didn’t know how long she was out, but when she came to, she was on a stretcher in the emergency department. She looked around the room, noticed that her clothes and service weapon were secure in a chair within her reach, and closed her eyes in relief. Then her eyes flew open as her memories flickered back to life. She sat up, wincing as the sudden movement sent a surge of pain through her head. 

“Agent Lease?” 

She laid her head back on her pillow, and turned toward the voice. A man she had never seen before carefully approached her stretcher. 

“The train station. I was knocked out.” She winced. The pain was worse when she tried to talk. But, she needed to find out what had happened. She had seen a man decapitated. She was sure of that fact. Was the killer arrested? Had back-up arrived as soon as she lost consciousness? 

“I know you have a lot of questions. My name is Arnold Fletcher. I promise that once the doctors clear you, I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Agent Lease, I realize it’s difficult under the circumstances, but please trust me.” 

She looked him over. Average height, average weight, thinning gray hair. He looked ordinary and unthreatening, and that gave her pause. She wasn't sure why; maybe it was because he saved her, or the way he kept his voice gentle and low so he didn't cause her undue pain, but her instincts told her she could trust him. She would give him time, but she expected answers. Just in case, though, she wanted her phone. It never hurt to know that backup was just one speed-dial number away.

As if reading her mind, he surreptitiously slipped her Glock between the rails into her hand, then reached into her jacket pocket, found her phone, and handed it to her. That certainly earned him trust points. Turning it over, she remembered the blast that knocked her out, and marveled that it wasn't damaged. 

When she was released, Arnold had kept his word. He showed her his tattoo, and told her about a secret race of people and the organization that watched them. She learned about beheadings and quickenings and the Game. That was the day she became a Watcher. She took classes at the Watcher Academy part time. But, due to her job with the FBI, she wasn’t given field assignments. Instead, she helped whenever she could. When there were special circumstances where her skills were needed. 

Like now.

****

~~~~~

Setting her memories aside, she opened her notebook to study her notes. There was no reason to go to the computer to browse the Watcher network. The Immortal in question’s chronicle was thin to say the least. There was very little to study. 

Besides being incredibly dangerous, all they knew about the red-haired, slightly pudgy Immortal was that she was over four hundred years old. She was an expert at evading surveillance, although they were certain, until recently, she had no idea about the Watchers. 

While conventional wisdom was that she died in France, the Watcher’s first recorded chronicle came from her interaction with Miguel Guillermo. Not certain if he was her teacher, she stayed with him in Spain for five years before disappearing. Discovered in North America a few months later, a permanent Watcher was assigned to resume her chronicle. Unfortunately, with the environment and little in the way of communication, it didn’t take long for the female Immortal to slip away. 

Over the centuries, she would show up either in North America or Europe, with a new name, and an occasional attempt to change her appearance. The one thing that never changed was her blood-thirsty carnage of innocents wherever she appeared. She was immediately put on a “too dangerous to follow” list. Once the twentieth century rolled around, and tele-communication was at its peak, it was easy to share information globally. 

Yet, for some unfathomable reason, as soon as Roy Benson received his promotion to Reginal Director, he assigned her to active status. When she was discovered in DC six months later, he immediately assigned her a Watcher. 

Two days ago, her Watcher’s mutilated body was found on the grounds of the New York satellite headquarters. The Watcher Network instantly issued a warning throughout the territories of North America and Europe. It wasn’t known how much information she may have discovered about the organization, but her Watcher had clearly been tortured for hours.

Picking up her cell, Andrea used the code that would connect her directly to Benson’s office. He picked up on the second ring. It didn’t take long before her temper was boiling. At least the idiot hadn’t wasted any time, and had the security system at the Medical Examiner’s office shut down before the ME arrived to start the post on the two newest cadavers. But she didn’t have time to lose. 

It was the rest of the investigation that caught her attention. Why hadn’t she heard about the thefts? Anyone could have broken into Watcher Headquarters and stolen Immortal heads. It was obviously someone who knew about Watchers and Immortals, had access to confidential information, knew when a challenge took place, where the bodies would be taken, and how to get around the security systems. 

Now, with the Satanic Cult rituals centering around the homicides, complete with decomposing human heads and skulls, the crime scene tableau might very well take her investigation in an entirely new direction. Knowing an Immortal was involved made her suspicious that there might be some correlation between the homicides, and the recent bizarre thefts of Immortal heads. In fact, there was little doubt in her mind that the decomposed heads found in the cauldron belonged to some of the recently deceased Immortals. 

She tossed her notebook aside and picked up her cell. It was time to call another Regional Director. She only hoped Joe Dawson would be cooperative. Right now, they had an Immortal to recover from the morgue. 

She collected everything she needed as quickly as possible. The comfortable black sweats and T-shirt she had worn for travel would do for their mission. She had her cell and her weapon, and once she packed a change of clothing and toiletries for later, she would be ready to jump in her rental for her rendezvous with the retrieval team. 

****

~~*~~

Joe poured the glass full of whiskey, not caring that he’d barely slept two hours after leaving Mac’s loft that morning. The headline on the front page of the Seacouver Appeal screamed at him, eliciting a sense of dread and fear he hadn’t felt since Shapiro threatened to kill both him and MacLeod.

  
**Several skulls found in a witch’s cauldron at home on the west side of Seacouver**

He’d skimmed the rest of the article quickly, his stomach sinking as the facts were laid out before him. According to the journalist, the police had been led to a one-story house after receiving a nine-one-one call reporting vandalism in the neighborhood. In the main living area two bodies had been discovered. In the basement, they had found a cauldron filled with with human skulls, as well as the remains of animals -- not identified in the article. The theory was that someone was practicing Satanist rituals at the home.

His first thought was that he needed a Watcher to infiltrate the city morgue’s security, and find out what evidence the police and medical examiner had accumulated. With disgust, he realized that the Watcher covering the ME’s office had retired the year before. He’d become complacent and still hadn’t filled the vacancy with another Watcher. While it didn’t help to admonish himself of his own stupidity, that didn’t stop him all the same. He’d really screwed this one up. At least he still had a couple of Watchers in the police department, and a man in homicide he could call on to keep him apprised of the situation.

With renewed resolve, he clicked on his computer and pulled up the current Watcher files. Quickly locating the information he needed, he reached for his cell. He was answered immediately, and suspected his team had read the same article and were expecting his call.

His tone was gruff when he addressed the other man, not that he gave a damn. They had to move fast before the shit really hit the fan. “Mason, get all the Watchers together from the areas where the heads disappeared. I’m going to call the Paris office. I don’t care how many people I have to call in. We’re going to get these son-of-a-bitches.” 

Agitated, Joe set down his phone, then cursed when it vibrated against his desk. “Dawson.” 

“Joe Dawson? This is Andrea Lease. I’m with the Northeast division under Roy Benson. I’m also one of the Watcher’s FBI investigators. We have an Immortal problem at the Seacouver ME’s office. I’ve just arrived, but I’m going to need a back-up team. Immediately!” 

“Fuck!” Scrambling up as quickly as his prosthesis would allow, he turned off his computer and picked up his phone. He would make his calls on the way. It was a good thing his van was hands free. His first call would be to Roy Benson. His second would be to his team. They were already on call for that night’s sting operation. Now would be a perfect test run. 

****

Kristen Vest reached for her cup of coffee, noticed how the ring of cooling creamer lined the inside of the cup, and quickly surmised that she had been pouring over her report far too long. Pushing her cup aside none too gently, she scowled when the disgusting liquid sloshed onto the strewn papers littering her desk. 

At least the mess had been contained to her desk. She might not be a fashion queen, with her dark, tight-fitted jeans and light blue T-shirt, but she was clean. 

She heard a laugh as her partner pushed his chair aside and walked over to help her. She shooed him away with a wave of her hand when he settled his butt on the edge of her desk.

“Not funny, ass-hole. Make yourself useful and grab me some paper towels.” 

A few minutes later, the coffee was sopped up and her desk was more or less put to rights. She ran her hands through her hair, leaving the dark brown strands disheveled. She really didn’t care at this point. Her partner pointedly straightened up her name plate with a grin. 

“There you are, Detective Vest.” He bowed with a flourish and she finally smiled. 

“I appreciate it, Detective Cord.” 

Henry Cord had been her partner for over a year. Kind and funny, yet serious and strong when necessary. Which was far too often in her opinion. Life had sucked for both of them the past year. It had been a year of love torn apart, her boyfriend walking out of her life and Cord’s wife deciding thirty years was twenty-nine years too long. Hell of a thing to take up three decades of a man’s life, then leave him alone, facing fifty and an empty home. 

She studied her friend and partner as he tried to keep the smile on his too round face. Bald headed; she knew he shaved away the few remaining strands. He was mildly overweight until his wife left, now he could be legitimately called rotund. Old-school, he still wore a suit and tie, usually a drab brown or gray. Today he was wearing a two-piece brown suit, less than crisp white shirt, and a brown tie. Unfortunately, with age and his increased weight, his suits had become increasingly more ill fitted. She knew he didn’t have the money to replace them, and he would never accept her help. 

He was still one of the best detectives in Homicide, and she was proud to be his partner. Although she made detective two years ago, he had taught her everything worth knowing about being good at her job. 

She had heard the rumors that their Lieutenant was worried about Cord’s ability to keep up with the physical demands required for duty. She had already decided that Lieutenant Coleman could kiss her ass. The only question was when she was going to get up the courage to tell him. Probably after retirement, dammit. She not only loved her job, she needed it. Although, at the moment it was giving her one colossal headache. 

“Is everyone ready?” She asked, as she picked up a folder with the newest case information tucked inside. 

“Yeah, let’s hit it. This one may be rough.” Her partner grabbed his own folder off his desk and they headed toward a bland room with faded beige walls and a smattering of chairs. 

Three detectives, along with two members of the department’s forensic team were already settling into their chairs while the Lieutenant waited with ill- concealed impatience. Tall and ordinary, greying hair, dark rimmed glasses and a cheap suit were the things she tucked away in a memory file titled “impressions". He stood just outside his office door which faced the meeting in the center of the room.

A few gruff introductions, followed by a brief overview of the current outstanding homicides, started the meeting. 

As it happened, Kristen and Cord were the two lead homicide officers on the newest case. Therefore, it was left to them to sum up their initial findings. 

Kristen looked at her partner who gave a curt nod of his head. Relieved, she took a breath and felt the tension release from her shoulders. Cord was going to lead. She would jump in when needed. 

Cord remained seated, his posture misleadingly casual as he slouched in his chair. He picked through a folder as he began reciting his preliminary findings. “Detective Vest and I received a call from dispatch at approximately oh-four-hundred this morning. A couple had called in suspicious activity from a house next door, which to their knowledge was supposed to be vacant.” 

Kristen, who felt more comfortable standing while addressing the room, interjected, satisfied that her team was giving her their full attention. “We spoke to the neighbors on either side of the house. According to them, the former tenants had moved out a few months before. As far as they knew, no one had tried to lease or buy the home. On occasion, they had heard activity and noises from the house’s vicinity, but nothing was vandalized and they figured it was probably kids messing around the property. But this morning they were certain they heard screaming, and when they went out to investigate they saw three people running from the property.” 

Cord picked up the report after receiving a signal from Kristen. One of the perks of having a good relationship with a partner was the ability to establish a code that only they understood. Since Kristen had remained standing, she only had to lower her folder to let him know she wanted him to take over. 

“There’s nothing in our initial findings to point to the gender of the people involved. They were average; none of the witnesses could agree on height or weight. They did agree that all three were wearing robes with hoods that concealed their faces. We got squat. But the scene is a different story. 

“The electricity wasn’t on which we expected since the house was vacant. There was some furniture left, but from the condition of the place, no one had been using the main house for a while. However, there was a foul odor coming from a door off the kitchen which appeared to lead down to a basement. Once we had backup, Detective Vest and I proceeded down the wooden stairs to a small cellar.”

“On the floor in the living room, we found two victims, one male, appearing to be between the age of seventeen to nineteen,” Kristen intervened. “From the male’s presentation, it appears that his neck had been broken, possibly manually. There weren’t any ligature marks. We’re still waiting on the ME’s final report. Next to him was a female, her apparent age twenty-five to thirty years old. She’d been shot twice mid-chest with a small caliber handgun. A few centimeters to the left, a knife was embedded in her heart. We're still waiting on confirmation, but the Medical Examiner's initial assessment was that the gunshot killed her instantly and the knife was placed post-mortem.”

“Maybe she was a vampire,” a male detective chortled from across the room.

Kristen frowned. Gracel. Figured. He was a class ‘A’ ass from her street days. _“That’s a wooden stake, asshole,”_ Kristen thought with satisfaction. 

Instead of answering, she decided to ignore him. Not only would it piss him off, she wanted to quickly get through the briefing. She continued, “There were several lit candles around the room, giving off just enough light for the occupants to see what they were doing. Once we had adequate lighting the forensic team came in to work the scene.”

Hoping Cord had picked up on her irritation, she hesitated, giving him an opening to jump in. Thankfully, he did. “The male victim was wearing the type of clothing described by the witnesses: dark gray robe with a hood which came down to partially cover his face. The female was wearing jeans and a black T-shirt. To make matters even more complicated, in addition to the damage from the gunshots and knife, she also had several gashes in her clothing, all dried with blood, but the Medical Examiner couldn't find any other injuries when she looked her over at the scene. There were no matches on either victims’ fingerprints in CODIS.” He stopped and looked around the room. Kristen noted that he still had everyone’s attention. Good.

He continued. “In the center of the basement was a large metal pot, not unlike a cauldron you would associate with witches and Satan worshipers. Kindling was burning underneath, but we don’t believe the fire had been set more than an hour prior to our arrival. Inside the pot, we found a partially burned human head, as well as a mixture of ash containing bone fragments.”

The door to the Lieutenant’s office opened, and a woman Kristen had never seen before entered the briefing room. Lieutenant Coleman acknowledged her with a nod, and she walked over to stand beside him. 

“Are you saying you think this is associated with Satan Worshipers?” The woman asked.

Kristen bristled at the unexpected intrusion. She met the woman’s eyes. “We’re not saying anything. We’re merely reporting on our findings.”

“Of course.” She gave Kristen a chilly smile. “Detective ….”

“Vest.” She returned the smile, equally as chilly, as she studied the woman who had joined their briefing. She was a tall, immaculately dressed black woman, approximately thirty-five years old, slim, wearing a crisp dark green pantsuit, and black pumps with a discreet one-inch heel. Her dark hair was cut short, just long enough to touch the upper collar of her suit jacket. She had pretty, charcoal eyes, but it was her dark red lips that drew Kristen’s attention as the woman spoke. 

“I’m sorry. I’m Special Agent Lease from the FBI. Lieutenant Coleman notified us immediately once he received the initial forensic findings. We realize there have been cults around the world, Jim Jones and Manson come to mind, but true Satan Worshipers and ritualized Satan cults have been denounced by the FBI for some time. Usually we find out the incidents are simply teenage vandalism, and a desire to mimic what they perceive to be Satanic Rituals. It’s usually a desire to rebel against society. Or their parents,” she added unnecessarily.

“I doubt the victims give a shit about what the FBI thinks,” Kristen bit out icily. “I’ll give you that one of the victims is probably a teenager, but he’s just as dead.” 

“That’s enough,” the Lieutenant cut in. “Special Agent Lease is here to help and I expect everyone to give her their full cooperation. Vest, Cord, in my office.” 

Kristen shared a look with her partner and followed the agent and their Superior into his office. He pulled his blinds shut.

****

~~~~~

Agent Lease leaned against the Lieutenant’s desk in as casual a pose as she could manage. She smoothed down her dark green suit jacket, making sure her cuff hid the well-defined tattoo on her left wrist. 

Now she studied the two lead detectives who were sitting impatiently in front of her. She knew they resented her presence. Detective Vest especially, mid to late-twenties, slender, with waist length dark brown hair, was fidgeting, seemingly not worried that she appeared disgruntled and uncooperative. 

Andrea was sure the female detective was aware of her scrutiny. With a scowl, the younger woman pulled out an elastic hair band from the front pocket of her jeans and placed her hair into a messy ponytail. 

Her partner, Detective Cord, however, seemed more interested and less agitated by her intrusion into their investigation. Truthfully, even if an Immortal weren’t involved, the Satanic aspect of this case would have caught the attention of the FBI. It was fortuitous that she was in the position to handle the case. 

Currently, Lieutenant Coleman was in a meeting with his Captain, trying to explain how their female victim had suddenly disappeared from the morgue under the watchful eye and security of the Medical Examiner. Of course, she knew exactly what had happened. It took an exceptionally trained team of Watchers, led by Joe Dawson, and aided by herself, to free Laureen Battles aka Alfreda Balthild from the morgue.

Unfortunately, her mission had almost failed before it began when she found out Benson hadn’t informed the Northwest Regional Director, Joe Dawson, of the current events. Due to the lapse, their retrieval had been delayed, and it was only a stroke of luck that the Medical Examiner hadn't been able to start the autopsies as soon as she arrived back at the morgue. Thankfully, Dawson was professional, and more concerned with helping her take care of Battles, than Benson’s obvious snub and lack of protocol.

Frankly, she had no problem leaving Battles’ disappearance to the team at the Medical Examiner’s office. Her job was protecting the secrecy of Immortals and the Watcher organization. With that solved, it was her duty to find out who orchestrated this mess to begin with. Whoever it was knew about Immortals and that was her sole concern. To do that, she had to help the Seacouver Homicide Department solve this case. 

In the meantime, there was a report that an Immortal challenge had been issued for that evening. Dawson had set up a sting, hoping to catch the perpetrators in the act. Somehow this all fit together. But, unlike Benson, she planned to team up with the homicide detectives, and Joe Dawson, to find the missing links. 

“A body doesn’t just disappear,” Detective Vest announced the obvious, bringing Andrea out of her introspection. 

“No, it doesn’t,” she agreed. She turned to Detective Cord. “Do you have any theories, Detective?”

“You can call me Cord, ma’am, and I wish to hell I did. We’ve already examined all the security cameras in the ME’s building: all entrances, hallways, labs; even the morgue itself. And we’re getting nada.” 

“Well, Cord, you and Detective Vest may call me Andrea. We’re all on the same team here. We want the same thing; to catch these bastards and find out what sick things they were up to. Any ideas Detective Vest?” 

“Kristen,” the younger detective acquiesced with a frown. “The main problem is the security system. Like Cord said, we didn’t get anything from the cameras. Without anyone being alerted, the entire system went down. From the time stamp, it appears that it was disabled just prior to the Medical Examiner arriving with the bodies, and didn't come back up until several hours later. I don't know what the official word will be, but unofficially, we were told that there was a delay, and she wasn't prepared to post the bodies until later this morning. When she arrived at the autopsy suite, the female body was missing. Obviously, someone knew the layout of the building and how to manipulate the system. In the meantime, we’re going through all missing person reports, looking for an ID on the male victim.”

“Neither set of fingerprints were in any of the criminal databases,” Detective Cord added to the discussion. “And we checked them all: State level agencies in Washington, California and Nevada, NICS, NCIC, OFAC, Interpol – Dial-Doc, and SAD. I was sure we’d find something on the woman. I have a gut feeling about her.” 

Andrea nodded. No, they definitely wouldn’t find any trace of Laureen Battles. The Watchers were already arranging for her to be moved to another part of the country before she would be allowed to _come back from the dead._ As Watchers, they could do whatever was needed to keep their secret, but they couldn’t interfere. It was times like this when she wished they could do more than watch. 

The young male victim was another matter. He wasn’t a Watcher, but since he knew about Immortals he had to either be a member of a Watcher’s family or knew someone who was. There was a multitude of prints in the basement of the home. If the unsubs were that careless, certainly there was DNA left behind as well. If they had to, they were prepared to obtain DNA samples from every Watcher in all the regions affected. The worst-case scenario was that someone not connected to the Watchers had stumbled onto their secret. 

Dawson had already handled background and fingerprint checks on all the regional Watchers. Everyone cleared was scouring through Immortal files, focusing on the Immortals whose heads had vanished after a Watcher clean-up crew had removed the bodies from the scene. 

“The Lieutenant is going to have a press conference asking for anyone to come forward who might have information or recognize the picture of our female victim,” Kristen Vest added. “Although, putting an unidentified murder victim’s picture on air is not ideal, hopefully it will bring out family to make a positive ID soon. But, that still doesn’t explain how she disappeared, or how we’re going to explain the situation to any family member who does come forward.” 

“It sure as ‘fu..’, sorry,” Detective Cord grunted a swift apology. “I mean, it sure as hell doesn’t. I don’t want to be the one trying to explain it either.” 

“I don’t blame you. Either of you.” Andrea met the gaze of both detectives.

“That’s why I’ve agreed to handle that part of the equation.” Seeing the visible relief on both detective’s faces, she managed a smile. Perhaps, her first sincere one since she’d arrived. The truth was, she knew no one would show up to claim the Immortal woman. Andrea’s goal was to make sure the Watchers solved the case before the Seacouver Police Department got too close to the truth.

“Do we know what he’s going to do about the male victim’s identity?” Kristen asked. She looked from her partner to Andrea, while at the same time removing her elastic band and combing her fingers through her hair, combining what appeared to be a nervous habit with the need to bring a semblance of order to her disheveled tresses. 

Cord shifted uneasily in his chair, one of the two faded armchairs Lieutenant Coleman had facing his mid-sized mahogany desk. At least Andrea thought it was mahogany. Right now, it was covered with a cluster of folders and unopened correspondence. 

Kristen sat in the other armchair, still appearing slightly agitated and fidgety. It was clear that Detective Cord understood, and had empathy for his younger partner. Andrea wondered about the young woman. Was she in a personal crisis, or was the Seacouver Police Department still in the dark ages, treating women with a lack of deference and earned respect? She hoped it wasn’t the latter. If so, this was going to be a very difficult operation. And, if it was the former, she could only hope Detective Vest had someone she could trust and count on to help her through her problems.

Detective Cord had been a gentleman and offered Andrea one of the chairs when they entered the office. But, she had declined, perfectly happy leaning against the overwhelmed desk. It gave her a better position to size up the two people she would have to work with, and against, at the same time.

Detective Cord shrugged. “He didn’t say, but he can’t slap this kid’s picture up on TV or in the press. His family might not even know he’s missing yet. It would be a hell of a thing to find out that way.”

Andrea took a deep breath, and prepared to share a small piece of information. The best lie was to keep it as close to the truth as possible. 

“Actually, I have a team that’s working on that as we speak,” she assured them. “They’re accumulating as much information as they can regarding different demographics in the area, and hoping to match him within that population.” 

_They’re called The Watchers._

“Maybe it’s a good thing the FBI did step in,” Kristen finally admitted. “At least you have resources. Personally, I think the Captain and Lieutenant are just chasing their tails trying to figure out who to blame.” 

Detective Cord exhaled a long breath. “I agree.” He looked at Agent Lease. “How do you want to proceed? Personally, I think we need to get back to that house. Someone had to have seen something. This didn’t just start last night. From the look of that basement, whatever they were doing had been going on for a while.” 

****

~~*~~

Joe squinted through the lens of his binoculars. The quickening had been spectacular, and he had certainly seen his share from following MacLeod over the past twenty plus years. Parked well out of the way, he still had to duck and cover in order to miss the flying debris from the release of the overpowering electrical charge from the dead Immortal’s body.

He easily spotted both Immortal’s Watchers, and nodded to himself when the men stepped carefully away to make their call to the Watcher’s clean up team. With nervous expectation, he waited and watched. Both Watchers left the area as soon as they made their call. There shouldn’t be much of a wait he reminded himself. The clean-up crew was efficient and usually on the scene well before anyone arrived to investigate the abnormal electrical storm.

Sweat beaded his forehead and he wiped it away, barely noticing that his hand was just as slick. He should be used to this. He never knew what to expect when Duncan met a challenge. Not to mention every tension filled hour when he found out someone had traced the world’s oldest Immortal to Seacouver. 

As he suspected, he didn’t have long to wait before the clean-up crew arrived. Knowing at least four of his guys were following the team, he reached inside his coat and pulled out his cell. Not willing to debate the wisdom of his decision, he made the call. Duncan answered on the first ring. 

“MacLeod.” 

Suspicion immediately clouded Joe’s thoughts. “You were expecting me to call? Been following me, Mac?” He growled. 

“Would I do that, Dawson?” 

Damn Immortals. “Yeah, yeah. I take it the Watcher database security needs to be upgraded again. You or the old man?”

Another voice came over the line and Joe had no doubt he had his answer. “Has the clean-up crew left yet? Who’s out of the Game – Newsom or Abrams?” 

Joe gritted his teeth. Of course, Methos knew about the challenge. Both Immortals’ Watchers had updated their chronicles before the challenge took place. It wouldn’t be long before the fight was recorded and a termination report was added to close out one of the chronicles. Joe was counting on it. He was certain that Methos wasn’t the only one hacking into their files. 

“Look, smart ass. My team is covering all the check points. I just called to remind you both to stay the hell away. I’m not stupid, Methos. I knew damn well you were monitoring our operation. Don’t get in our way. I mean it, man.” 

“Of course. We’ll stay here and patiently wait for your call. Won’t we, Mac?”

Joe heard his Immortal’s amused reply and cursed to himself. “Don’t try to shit me, Methos. I know you both too well. Now stay the hell away!” He pressed the off button, and not for the first time, wished he had a receiver he could slam down onto the cradle.

**48 HOURS AGO**

Veronica Perez peered out of her family’s dining room window. It had been hours since she broke into her dad’s Watcher database, and found out that a challenge was issued for tonight in Seacouver between Laureen Battles and Lawrence Zimmerman. From what she had read, there was no doubt the female Immortal would win. Not that it mattered to Veronica. The important thing was that there was going to be an Immortal head for the taking. 

Now, if only her boyfriend would get there. What the hell was taking him so long? He wasn’t working that night. Perhaps he couldn’t get away from his roommate. Dammit. 

The Canadian team was two heads behind so she wasn’t concerned about them. There simply wasn’t that much Immortal activity going on north of the border. They could come into the United States. It was in the realm of possibility, but she couldn’t imagine being brave enough to cross the border with a newly severed head in the trunk of her car. 

The problem was that the New York team had one more head than her group. She knew they were going outside the two-hundred-mile radius originally agreed upon, but that had pretty much been shelved after the Southern team pulled out. Their team leader said there wasn’t enough activity, but she was sure they simply cowered out at the last minute. Which left them with only three teams in the game.

Her group was handicapped due to the member’s ages. She and Jim were both only seventeen, still in high school and living at home with their parents. And, while Lee was eighteen, he was still a senior in high school, and living at home as well. Now that Lee and Jim’s parents were married, they could at least provide each other cover. But that was about it. 

At age nineteen, Nick was the oldest member of their group. Both of Nick’s parents were Watchers. Although he no longer lived at home, he had worked out the system’s schematics long ago without anyone being the wiser. 

It was remarkable that none of their parents had figured out that their children knew what was going on. If they had, they wouldn’t have left such easy access to their computers and the Watchers’ database lying around. Maybe they were so focused on keeping their secrets from the world, that they let their guard down at home, never thinking about curious eyes and ears within their own walls.

Lights flashed a few houses down the street, and she prepared to sneak out the back door. Nick. Her heartrate sped up when he turned off the car’s headlights and coasted alongside her driveway. 

Her parents had arrived home a few hours ago, but she wasn’t worried. With all the experience she had picked up recently, covert entering and exiting a building was a snap.

Sliding into the passenger seat, she leaned over and took her boyfriend’s mouth in a hungry kiss. God, but the man could kiss. Not that she was that experienced in all things sexual. She was only seventeen. But, she knew when something felt right. 

He grinned at her while she settled into her seat and fastened her seatbelt. “I missed you too.” 

“Shut up,” she said with a smile. “Have you talked to Lee or Jim?”

“Yeah, they’re already headed to the site in case the Immortals show up early. We have plenty of time. Even if they do fight, the Watchers won’t transport the body to the crematorium until early in the morning. You might as well relax. We have a two-hour drive.” 

“I know, it’s just ….”

“You get off on this,” Nick answered, and leaned over to give her a quick, hard kiss. Opening his car door, he stepped out and hurriedly placed his license plate in its rightful spot. When they were playing the game, he always removed the plate when driving through the neighborhoods where he might be caught on camera. Task accomplished, he climbed back into the driver’s seat.

“So do you,” Veronica retorted as Nick turned on his headlights and prepared to pull out onto the highway.

“Of course, I do. You know we’ll still only be tied with the New York team once we get Zimmerman’s head,” he reminded her.

“I know. I see you looked it up too. Zimmerman doesn’t have a chance against this Battles chick.”

“I don’t think so, no.” 

Veronica nodded her answer, then leaned back against the seat to rest. This was the time to get her head into the game. When they had first joined up with Lee and Jim, she had been scared half to death. But, meeting the other teams during a school break had helped. Now, she and Nick were close friends with Jim and Lee. In a way, it felt as if they were their own subgroup of Watchers. 

She studied her boyfriend – and partner in crime. Two years older than her, he really was handsome: six feet tall, dark brown hair, brown eyes, square jaw. Jesus, she could look at him forever. 

He must have felt her eyes on him because he looked over and smiled. She didn’t care. He knew she was turned on by his looks. She hadn’t made it a secret, after all. 

Once his attention returned to the highway, she closed her eyes and thought back to their first meeting. 

Being a third-generation Mexican immigrant, she was proud that she had inherited her grandmother’s classic beauty. Her mother had reminded and warned her about stereotyping their ancestry, but she didn’t care. She loved her creamy, dark complexion, hair so black it mocked the beautiful feathers of a raven, her eyes large and dark velvety brown.

The first time she saw Nick had been at the neighborhood mall. He’d been staring at her for at least five minutes, and it was pissing her off. If he had a problem with her ethnicity, she had no problem setting his ass straight. Holding her head up high, she approached him, her muscles tense as she prepared to give him a piece of her mind.

“You’ve been staring at me. Do you have a problem, because I’ll have you know …?” 

Her words were quickly cut off when he held up his hands in the universal sign of surrender, and he smiled the most gorgeous smile she had ever seen. A dimple appeared at his right cheek, and that’s when she noticed that he was looking at her with admiration, not derision. 

“Look, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. It’s just that you’re one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.” 

She smirked. “Not very original. How many girls have you used that line with today?”

That got her a genuine laugh. “None. I know it sounds incredibly trite, but I really do mean it. Look, can we start over? My name’s Nick. And you are one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen. Even if you were ready to tear me apart, at least I got you to come over and talk to me. Are you hungry?” He nodded toward the Taco café with his head. “They don’t look very busy at the moment.”

It only took her seconds to make up her mind. When she found out he was nineteen and already out of high school, it had worried her. But, it turned out he didn’t mind as long as her parents were cool with it. She needn’t have worried because they liked him right away, although they did have some concerns about the difference in their ages. She tried to understand their point of view. A couple of years down the road it wouldn’t matter. But currently she was still a minor. In the end, they had agreed to the relationship, albeit with caution. 

Once they reached the point of no return, and she gave him her virginity along with her heart, she told him about her father’s second job. She was naturally stunned when Nick admitted to his own mother’s state of employment. She was even more stunned when she found out he had been hacking into the Watcher network for years. 

After giving her a scathing lecture on how freely she had given out information about Immortals and Watchers, he agreed to show her how to navigate the system, and it didn’t take long before she was a pro. 

One night he told her that he wanted to take her to Seacouver to meet a couple of friends. Although they lived almost a hundred miles away, it wasn’t that long a drive. He warned her that they were also Watcher orphans – a term she had coined and loved to use. It was certainly accurate since their parents often disappeared for long periods of time when they were assigned to an Immortal. 

It wasn’t long after she met Lee and Jim, before they brought up the crazy scheme about stealing Immortal heads. Her first thought was that it was insane. But during the school break, the four of them had gotten together with the team from Canada, and skyped with the group in New York. Suddenly, it sounded more fun than crazy and she was hooked. 

She woke with Nick’s touch to her cheek. 

“Wake up, gorgeous. We’re here.” 

Looking around, she wrinkled her nose with distaste. She really disliked the abandoned home they used for their headquarters. Lee and Jim were already there, and had the plans laid out on the floor, illuminated with kerosene lamps. 

“What time is the challenge supposed to take place?” Lee looked at Nick expectantly. 

Nick turned to her since she had been the one to discover the information through her dad’s correspondence. 

She studied the man who asked the question, noticed the signs that he was already high, and sighed. She wasn’t sure he was prepared to do this. His arrogance always concerned her a bit. But, Nick trusted him, and she trusted Nick. 

“Around midnight.” She reached for her boyfriend’s wrist and looked at his watch. It was just a few minutes after eleven. “We have plenty of time.” Before she could pull away, Nick took her hand in his own and interlaced their fingers. With a squeeze, she knew he had noticed her anxiety. It would be okay. 

“So, let’s go over everything,” Jim suggested. 

Jim was the same age she was, and she liked him. He seemed to have his head in the game, and she felt, in general, he was a bit more reliable than his step-brother.

“Good idea,” Nick agreed. He pointed at the map laid out between them. “The fight is supposed to take place here.” He pointed to the site with the index finger of his free hand. Veronica knew he had no plans to let go of her hand for a while, and she was glad. They both wanted the connection. 

“Right,” Lee said. “There’s no telling how long it will take. I think we’re all in agreement that Zimmerman is toast, but he’s still no push over. He’ll give Battles a fight.” 

“Do we have any animal bones to throw in tonight?” Nick asked.

Veronica shuddered. Dead animals had never been a part of their plan, but one night Jim and Lee had shown up with the crushed carcass of a dead squirrel. They said it had been hit by a car, and they just happened to come on it while walking through the back lots to their hide-out. Although they admitted it was awful, the idea that it would add to the fake Satanic ritual was too good to pass up. Another night they had shown up with the remains of a dead rabbit. Thankfully, after that, they had never brought another dead animal to the house.

Jim shook his head. “Not tonight. Lee and I thought we’d get the best sight advantage for the quickening from this point.” He pointed to a row of warehouses close to the docks. 

“How long are we going to wait for the clean-up crew to arrive?” Veronica looked to Nick. She trusted the two almost-brothers, but Nick grounded her. 

Although she was clearly looking at Nick for an answer, it was Lee who spoke up. 

“They always swoop in as soon as the Immortal leaves the scene. They want to get the body and clean up the area before the police arrive to check out the fireworks. I think we should head that way as soon as the quickening ends. We can watch from here …” He pointed to an area close to the challenge site. “It’s still far enough away that the Watchers won’t know we’re there, but we can monitor them.” 

“Once they leave, we can start walking toward Watcher headquarters. Since they’ll be in a hearse and we’ll be on foot, our timing should be close,” Jim said. 

“We’ll still need to give the crew time to finish up, and put the body in a casket so they can take him to the crematorium first thing in the morning,” Nick reminded them. 

“I wish we didn’t have to break into their headquarters,” Veronica complained, hoping she didn’t sound as peevish as she felt. “Isn’t there anyway we can get the head at the crematorium before they’re … you know?”

Lee shook his head. “It’s not feasible. Once the casket arrives, there’s always someone there. You have to remember; the Watchers have control, but it’s used as a legitimate business too.” 

“Besides --” Jim smiled at her. “He won’t be refrigerated, and if we wait that long, his head may be getting a little … ripe.” 

Nick smiled when she grimaced, and he finally let go of her hand. 

“Great,” she muttered. She wasn’t sure why, but something didn’t feel right about this mission, and the gallows humor didn’t help. “I hate to throw cold water on our plans, but there’s been chatter on the database about the thefts. We could be walking into a trap.” 

“Don’t worry, baby.” Nick smiled at her. “I saw that too, so I extended my search into the higher management files. Right now, they’re more concerned about the New York thefts. That’s where they’re focusing their attention. They’re going to be breathing down our necks soon enough though, and we may have to put an end to the game early and do the final head count.” 

Jim and Lee both mumbled agreement. “We can always start the game again once everything has died down, even if it takes a year.” Lee looked at her as he spoke. 

“Frankly,” Nick told him, “once we’re finished and call the winning team, I think Veronica and I are going to quit. You’ll need to find someone else.” 

She took a deep sigh of relief. They hadn’t really talked about it yet, but she was in complete agreement. Frankly, she wasn’t surprised that Nick had caught her mood. 

Jim and Lee shared a look, but they didn’t reply. 

While the guys remained seated, going over their maps and timetable, Veronica stood up and walked around the room. She was still feeling anxious, which was new. Admittedly, she was frightened at first, but it was layered with excitement. It was something fun and new. That’s not the vibe she was getting now.

Before leaving, they would go down to the cellar and make sure everything was set up and ready. She started clicking off the items in her head: six kerosene lamps, a shelf with an additional bottle of lamp oil for each, a butcher knife, the cauldron set up, kindling underneath and ready to be lit, Butane BBQ gas lighters, and smaller sticks of kindling to be added to the ash and charred remains already settled in the cauldron. They each had a burner phone, and Lee was in charge of sending a picture to the opposing teams. Now, all they needed was one Immortal head.

“Fuck, but I wish the toilets worked in this hell-hole,” Jim groused. 

Veronica almost giggled when Jim’s unexpected complaint broke through her concentration. “At least you can pull it out and aim at a tree in the back yard,” she pointedly looked at all the men in turn. “I wish I had it so easy.” 

Nick laughed and she had to restrain herself from smacking him.

“Actually, I think it’s a good idea for all of us to take care of personal chores before we leave.” Nick turned to Veronica. “Baby, I’ll go out with you and make sure you’re safe. At least I’ll make sure you don’t squat in poison ivy,” he assured her with a grin.

She followed him out to the back yard with one of the kerosene lamps as he rubbed his shoulder. She probably hit him a bit harder than she intended. 

Two hours later, they began their trek toward the Watcher Headquarters. Once they were five-hundred feet from the front gate, Lee pulled out his laptop, and looked on as Nick brought up the system. Battles didn’t have a Watcher; they thought she killed hers, but Zimmerman’s Watcher just completed his terminal entry. Just as they thought. 

It didn’t appear that any plans to monitor the body or Headquarters were in place. Just in case, he went to the Regional Director’s email account. Nick skimmed down the subject lines of the emails, occasionally opening one, scanning through it, then moving on. Besides being the Regional Director for the Northwest territory, Dawson was also Duncan MacLeod’s Watcher. He’d have to remember that the next time he decided to hack into the system. But, for now, he was satisfied they weren’t walking into a trap. 

Jim pulled out the heavy, lined duffel bag they had prepared. Once Nick broke into the security system, disabling it, they were ready to break into the section they knew housed the morgue. It didn’t take long to get the already severed head into their possession, then back to the safety outside the grounds. 

Once they arrived back at the house, Nick and Veronica headed downstairs to the basement with their prize. The first order of business was to place the head in the cauldron, and start the fire that would burn the flesh off the skull. It really was a stroke of genius, or luck, that Nick had found the old, rusted cauldron. Veronica didn’t know where he found it, and thought that might be for the best. 

They both put on layers of vinyl gloves, then reached inside the duffel to bring out the head. Since Zimmerman was scheduled to be cremated within hours, his remains had already been placed inside the casket, ready for transport. It was likely no one would ever know his head wasn’t with the rest of his body. 

They had no sooner started the fire when they heard a shout from upstairs. Startled, Nick grabbed the knife they used to splinter the wood he threw into the cauldron to speed up the fire.

****

~~*~~

Laureen Battles pulled herself up from the ground to a sitting position. While Zimmerman’s quickening hadn’t been the worst she’d ever received, it was still strong. She felt nauseous, but quickly quelled the sensation. She didn’t have time to let her body determine her actions. After four hundred years, she had certainly learned enough about using mind over matter to tame her reactions.

With disgust, she finally rose to her feet, and lightly kicked Zimmerman’s head a few inches away with her boot. Picking up both her own sword and his, she wiped the blood off on his pants, and thought over her options.

She knew there were probably Watchers close by. She wished she knew more about them, but while she was well trained in torture, she was less trained in obtaining information using the technique. It had never occurred to her before that it could be a useful tool. Honestly, she just enjoyed the power of torturing other human beings. It was a symphony of pain -- a battle between a person’s mind and physical body as they dueled for death -- and she was the conductor. 

She had always reveled in their screams of fear, how they begged for their lives. She never paid attention to what they would do or say in order to live a few more pain-wracked minutes. She had been short-sighted. 

So, while she obtained some information, there was much more she could have learned. With a snort of disgust, she walked unsteadily away from the site. One thing she did know is that the Watchers never interfered in Immortal business. They would wait for her to leave and she was safe. 

Waiting a short distance away, it wasn’t long before some men showed up and ensconced Zimmerman’s body. She held still until they placed his body into a hearse and drove away. Knowing what their Headquarters looked like, thanks to her fruitful interaction with the female Watcher, she had already scoped out the facility.

She hadn’t parked far away, so it didn’t take long to get to her destination. She didn’t mind. It gave her time to regain her equilibrium. An hour later, they left the building. She debated nabbing one of the men. She had an overwhelming need to work through the agitation coursing through her body after the quickening. In the end, she decided against it. There were too many of them, and it wasn’t worth the risk. She really didn’t trust the “don’t interfere with Immortals” rule, no matter what the female said before she died.

She put her key in the ignition. There wasn’t anything to be gained by staying here tonight. But, before she started her car, she saw movement. Four people, wearing dark clothing, were skulking around the side of the building. Due to their clothing and stealth, she had almost missed them. Thankfully, she was always vigilant. Now that was paying off. Amused, she watched them carefully as they entered the building through a side door. 

It appeared as if they were breaking in; no one was using a key, which intrigued her even more. Who were these mortals and what did they want? They obviously weren’t with the men who just left, yet they knew about the facility. Perhaps they found out the same way she did? Intrigued, she got out of her car and moved closer on foot. When she was close enough to determine none of them carried an Immortal signature, she hid behind a shrub in front of the building and waited.

She wondered if they were here for the same reason she was. Perhaps they found the information she needed. If so, she was fairly certain she could control her hunger long enough to convince them that she might be merciful if they told her what she wanted to know.

It was the only reason she scoped out the loathsome people who followed them and recorded their lives. Although they disgusted her, she was pragmatic enough to see the usefulness of their organization. 

If her sources were accurate, and she was sure they were, Methos was in Seacouver. The Watcher she had tortured insisted that Methos was a myth. Although she knew better, she didn’t think the woman was lying, only that she didn’t know. Obviously, they didn’t share all their information between themselves. 

Regardless, that was why she had changed her identity once again, and flown to this damp hell-hole of a city. If Methos was here, she would find him. With her knowledge about the Watchers, she already had the advantage. 

Zimmerman had simply been a distraction. Interesting that he was here looking for the Highlander. After taking out Methos, that might be something worth considering herself. She knew he lived in the area, but hadn’t seriously thought about challenging him. It was well known in her circle that he wasn’t easy to put down. But, with the power of Methos’ quickening, perhaps …. 

A noise brought her out of her rumination. She looked at her watch. It had been thirty minutes. They were exiting the building, carrying what appeared to be a duffel bag. There were no glaring outside lights to bring attention to the building, although her earlier surveillance found a high-tech security system. Watching the four people navigating the building and leaving the property, it was obvious that they were also aware of the cameras, and comfortable enough with the system to get around it. 

She waited until they were well clear, then got into her car and followed the direction she thought they were probably going to take. The Watcher’s Headquarters was secluded, so it wasn’t difficult to make the correct assumption. While they weren’t Immortals, they were either Watchers or knew about Watchers, and she guessed that they knew about her challenge tonight. If she was right, and she usually was, the safest line-sight to the challenge and quickening would have been near the docks.

Turning off her headlights, she cruised down the streets. Before turning the corner from a row of warehouses, she heard their car. They had also turned off their headlights, and she had to admire their cunning. Following far enough behind to not be noticed, she waited until they pulled onto the highway before she turned on her headlights and drove onto the ramp. 

The traffic was light, and it wasn’t hard to keep up with their car. It obviously hadn’t occurred to them that they might be followed because they were being sloppy. It was laughingly easy to trail them. Finally, they turned off their headlights once again, and eased into a residential neighborhood. She turned off her lights as well and hung back, waiting to see which way they turned from the road they entered. 

Surprisingly, they pulled into the back lot of what appeared to be an abandoned house. The yard was grown up, and the outside of the house was clearly unkempt. She eased her car down the street toward the house, then changed her mind. Instead, she backed up and drove to the next street over and parked in a vacant lot adjacent to the subdivision. Making sure there were no cameras, she stepped out of her car and headed toward her destination on foot.

She couldn’t see into the house. Although it appeared that no one was living there now, there were still dark draperies covering the windows. She thought about what she’d seen. Whoever these people were, they obviously weren’t worried about being discovered. As far as she could tell, no one was guarding the property. Stupid. Looking around, it appeared that the rest of the houses were occupied. Yet, there were no lights on, nor any activity to arouse alarm. Still, she felt exposed, and silently slipped around to the back of the house. 

**NOW**

Detective Henry Cord walked around the dark blue Ford Taurus. The call had come in early; an abandoned car two streets over from the house where the murders had occurred. The forensic team was almost finished, and once the preliminary work was done, the car would be towed in for a more thorough investigation.

His partner, Detective Kristen Vest was talking to FBI Special Agent Andrea Lease. He watched the two women as they sorted through the papers found in the glove compartment. It was slightly chilly that morning, and Kristen was wearing her usual blue jeans and T-Shirt, now covered with a navy-blue jacket. Her hair was down, but he doubted it would stay that way. It wouldn’t be long before she pulled it up and out of her way.

Special Agent Lease was dressed more casually today, wearing black slacks and a light gray blouse, covered with a matching black jacket. He tried to avert his gaze, knowing he had been staring, but she really was a lovely woman. Her hair was braided back from her face to frame the collar of her jacket. Black boots completed her ensemble. She had also changed her lipstick to a more conservative bronze from the deep red of the day before. He had to admit, however, that no matter what she wore, it accentuated her beautiful, chocolate colored skin. 

Looking down at his own worn brown slacks and striped brown shirt, covered by a deep brown jacket, he wished he hadn’t gained so much weight after his wife had left. It was bad enough that he was at least fifteen years older than the Agent, but he knew he wasn’t appealing with his bald head and double chin. At least that seemed to be the consensus from the few women he had approached after receiving his single status.

Stepping closer to his partner, he looked at the papers she held in her hands. As she read them she passed them to Special Agent Lease, who then passed them over to him. The car was a rental from a local agency for one Maureen Blankenship. The purse, which was also in the glove box, had a wallet containing Miss Blankenship’s driver’s license. There was no doubt about it, this was the woman whose body was found in the abandoned house. At least some of the pieces of the puzzle were coming together now. 

“Detective Cord,” one of detectives assisting them in the case raised his voice to get his attention. 

Cord greeted him, wanting him to know that his input was appreciated. Detective Bryan was a new detective, but he was eager and thorough as he learned the ropes. Unfortunately, some of the more seasoned detectives were dismissive, and it pissed Cord off. 

All three of them stepped around the car to where Detective Bryan was standing by the open trunk. Inside was a sword with a curved blade and large handguard, with an extension that probably protected the thumb. Bryan was snapping pictures of the weapon, while forensics stood aside, ready to dust for prints, both on the sword, and inside the trunk. 

Once their work was completed, they headed to the station. Back at his desk, Cord pulled up the site on his computer where all the evidence had been logged in. They went through everything step by step, examining the house, the bodies, and the basement with the cauldron.

The pictures of the car and sword would be entered soon. In the meantime, he googled swords with a curved blade. Special Agent Lease looked on, occasionally reaching over his shoulder to click on a link. Her soft perfume was soothing, and he breathed it in, hoping she didn’t notice. 

He heard her breath catch as a website came up with a picture of the sword found in the trunk of the woman’s car. 

“What is it?” Kristen asked when she noticed the excitement from her partner’s desk. 

“A sabre.” Cord pointed to the picture in question. 

“It certainly appears to be the same type of sword,” Andrea Lease nodded and smiled at Kristen. 

Cord grinned, glad the two women were more amenable toward each other today. They may never be friends, but at least they were now working together without any of the animosity from the day before. 

A few minutes later, a call came in with some of the information obtained from the car. Cord took the call, motioning for the two women to step closer since they had already drifted back to Kristen’s desk.

“Thanks,” he spoke into the phone, then turned to his partners. “There were two sets of fingerprints on the sword. One definitely belonged to our female victim. Her prints were found inside the car as well. There were other prints, more than likely belonging to the personnel at the agency. They’re obtaining their prints now for elimination.” 

“They won’t be of use anyway. Any number of people could have touched the inside of that car,” Andrea said. 

Cord had to resist the urge to roll his eyes, almost smiling when he saw Kristen plop down in the chair at her desk, and do just that behind the Agent’s back. 

“Any match on the second set of prints?” Kristen asked helpfully.

“None,” he answered, frowning as they hit another dead end. “Same thing with the house. Blankenship’s and the male victim’s fingerprints were isolated at the scene. But so were several others. They could belong to other suspects, or anyone else who's been in and out of the house, including the prior owners.” 

Andrea pulled up a chair next to Cord’s desk. They both watched as Kristen tossed her pen gently across the legal pad where she had been taking notes. All three were quiet as they processed the information. Something would bring this case together. Cord knew this. Something always did, and sometimes it was already staring them in the face. Cord was annoyed, and he could feel the frustration from the rest of his team. 

The secondary detectives would join them soon, and they could brainstorm. Perhaps the three of them were too close to the situation and missing something. 

A phone call interrupted the silence. Kristen picked up the receiver and spoke to the person at the other end. Cord watched as she suddenly sat up straight and looked over at him and Andrea with a startled look. 

“What?” Both he and Andrea asked simultaneously. 

“That was New York,” Kristen told them. “Blankenship’s fingerprints matched a set found at a grisly crime scene two weeks ago. A woman identified as Jackie Cuspen was found with her throat slit open. Worse, it appears that she was tortured mercilessly before she was killed. Her body was found on the grounds of a Historical Society in a rural area outside New York City.”

Cord frowned. “Then why didn’t her fingerprints ping in the system if they had her tied to a murder?” 

“Interesting question,” Kristen admitted. She bit her lower lip as her expression changed from excited to questioning. 

“If her fingerprints didn’t match anyone’s in the system, they obviously hadn’t been entered yet. As hard as it is to conceptualize, some departments are behind. If it was a very rural community, more than likely they were. They may have just received the match this morning,” Andrea offered. 

Cord looked at his partner as he pondered that information. He wasn’t sure if he bought it, and by Kristen’s expression, he wasn’t sure she did either. 

“Well, it gets crazier,” Kristen went on. “The woman identified wasn’t Blankenship. The name on her rental car registration was Geina Morrisy. They have CCTV footage of her driving around the area where the body was discovered. They’re going to send me all their files, but the Sheriff is almost positive the woman caught on camera is the woman we found. They tracked her rental with the car’s GPS. The agency had a copy of her driver’s license. He’s sending it to me now,” she said, clicking on her email to see if the file had arrived. 

“Why didn’t they nab her when she returned the car?” Cord asked.

“Let me guess,” Andrea said. “She didn’t return the car. They found it abandoned.” 

“Exactly,” Kristen said as she brought up the email. 

Cord stood up and walked over to Kristen’s desk so he could clearly see her internet screen. The picture was in black and white and a bit fuzzy, but there was no question in his mind that the woman known as Geina Morrisy was Maureen Blankenship. And Blankenship was the woman found shot and stabbed in an abandoned house. The woman whose body had disappeared into thin air from their city morgue. 

Andrea leaned back in her chair with a thoughtful look on her face. “Was there a sword in the car, or at the scene of the crime?” 

Kristen started clicking on the links attached to the email. Cord watched, almost retching when the pictures of the murdered woman’s body came up on the screen. He saw Agent Lease look away and sympathized. None of them were exempt from the horror of the things they were all forced to witness. In fact, they were all looking a bit green right now. Even Andrea’s skin tone couldn’t hide her reaction. 

****

~~*~~

Andrea Lease knocked on Joe Dawson’s office door. She was surprised when his directions brought her to the Blues Bar, but once she entered, she was pleased with the atmosphere and friendly nuance of the establishment. 

It took him a few moments to come to the door. She understood and waited patiently. Although she had only known him for a short while, he was an interesting man. A little investigative work, via the internet, brought her to the conclusion that besides being charismatic and handsome, he was also extremely talented. 

He opened the door and stood aside to let her enter. His smile cheered her up, and she grinned, feeling her tension draining away by millimeters. Strange since the news they had to discuss was anything but cheerful. 

He offered her an armchair situated in front of his desk. She wondered if he had placed it there specifically for her since it was obviously more comfortable than the other chairs in the room. In any case, she was grateful. The chairs at the detective’s desks were certainly not offered for comfort. 

After going over the information obtained at the precinct, she fell silent, waiting for his analysis. Of course, he already knew about New York. It was well known that Geina Morrisy aka Laureen Battles, had tortured and murdered her Watcher, then dumped her body at the satellite Watcher Headquarters. 

She hadn’t been tracked to Seacover until her body was discovered the day before. “Where is Battles’ body now?” she asked Joe.

“It’s better you don’t know,” he answered kindly. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, believe me, but this woman is much too dangerous. The fewer people involved, the better.” 

She nodded. While she did want to know, she felt a sense of relief as well. If only Benson had used the same common sense. She personally blamed him for the torture and murder of Jackie Cuspen. She didn’t know the woman personally, but still, she was a sister Watcher, and that meant she was one of their own. 

“Okay,” Joe said with a frown. He paused and stroked his beard, then met her gaze. “Two of our Watchers, a newly married couple, have come forward and said their two teenage sons are missing. They gave us descriptions, and the oldest boy sounds like the man found next to Battles’ body. That’s why I asked you to bring me a copy of his picture from the morgue. This isn’t the way I’d prefer to do this, but it’s the only way we can know for sure. I don’t want them becoming part of the investigation if they don’t have to. If he’s who we think he is, it makes sense that their youngest son sent me the voice mail. It’s not good for us, but he was smart enough to use a burner phone so it couldn’t be traced.” 

She nodded with understanding, and opened her briefcase to bring out the picture. “How well do you know this couple?”

Joe shrugged, frowning. “They’re good people. Jim’s mother is Dorothy Beason. She’s been with us for almost a decade. She’s always been a devoted and loyal member of the organization, but she hasn’t had a field assignment since Tim Garrison lost his head two years ago. 

“A year ago, she met Lee’s father, Dan Carlson, at a meeting of the Regional Watchers. They got married soon after. Dan’s been with us about five years. He’s had a couple of field assignments, but his Immortals were young, and never seemed to stay in the Game very long. As far as I know, Dan’s always been on the up and up. 

“I don’t know what the hell’s been happening, but whatever’s going on, I don’t think they’re directly involved. And, I’d like it to stay under wraps until we know _exactly_ what we’re dealing with,” he added pointedly. 

“I understand,” she agreed. “But, what about the other regions where the thefts are taking place?” 

Joe leaned back in his own soft, leather computer chair, causing the springs to lightly moan with the shifting of his weight. “Once we’re sure our intel is foolproof, I’ll contact the other Regional Directors and we’ll share information. I have a feeling once we start connecting the dots, it’ll come together pretty quickly.” 

A knock on the door brought Joe to his feet. He reached for his cane, and walked steadily to the door to admit the newcomers. A man and woman entered, clearly distressed as they grasped each other’s hand tightly.

Andrea stood and faced the couple. 

Dan Carlson was tall, with light brown hair, dusted with gray at his temples. The tiny lines around his eyes and mouth were tense, as were his shoulders. Beside him, his petite wife pressed close, her shoulder length brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, her eyes stormy and red from crying. They were both dressed in jeans, Mr. Carlson’s topped with a black T-shirt, and Mrs. Carlson’s with a blue pullover. 

After introductions, Dan Carlson assisted his wife to the chairs Joe had placed opposite his desk, next to Andrea. They all sat, and Andrea looked at the couple, her heart nearly breaking for their pain. Gently, she placed the picture on Joe’s desk. 

A strangled sob was the first indication that they recognized their son. The man in the morgue was Dan’s biological son, but both parents were clearly in distress as they held onto each other and cried. 

She hated what came next and was grateful when Joe took over, either because he sensed her feelings, or it was his natural inclination to take charge. She decided it was both. 

“I take it this is one of your sons?” Joe asked gently. 

Both parents nodded. Dan looked up with red-rimmed eyes. He took a shuddering breath as if saying the words would tear him apart. 

Joe waited patiently, and Andrea knew he would give the couple as much time as they needed. 

Finally, Mr. Carlson spoke, “It’s Lee. Jesus, he’s only eighteen years old.”

Dorothy Carlson looked at her husband, swallowed hard, and shifted her gaze back to Joe. “Where’s Jim?” she asked suddenly, sounding on the verge of hysteria as she scanned the room as if her son would magically appear. 

“We don’t know,” Joe answered gently. “The morning Lee was found I received a voice mail on my phone. It was called from a burner phone, so I couldn’t trace it. It may be your other son. I think he was trying to warn me to get to the house before anything was discovered by the police.” 

He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a box of Kleenex. Sliding the box closer to the couple, he waited. 

Andrea watched, feeling helpless as the couple tried to hang on and pull themselves together. She only hoped they could. At the same time, she wondered how she would react under the same circumstances. The thought was terrifying. 

Joe was still waiting, and Andrea silently urged them the strength they would need to help solve the case, and possibly save Jim’s life.

“Are you up to listening to the message?” Joe looked to Jim’s mother, and Andrea felt awe at his caring, knowing that hearing her son’s voice would affect Mrs. Carlson the most.

Joe had already placed his cell on the desk, and with a nod from Dorothy, he pressed a number, and the voice message played.

“Oh God!” She choked on a sob, and her husband pulled her closer so he could wrap his arms around her. 

“It’s him,” he said with a tremor in his voice. “What’s happened to him? Is he alive?” 

“I think he’s scared and probably in hiding. What I don’t know is what these kids were doing, and how they knew about Immortals or our operation.”

Joe made the statement, knowing it would hit the parents hard, then fell silent to let it settle in their minds. Once the severity of the situation sunk in, they would all have to ponder the consequences. 

“I guess …” Dan said slowly. “I’ve never told Lee about the organization or anything about Immortals, but I guess he could have found out on his own.” 

“How?” Andrea asked. Damn it, she felt for their pain, but this had been going on too long and people were dying. 

“I don’t know,” Dorothy Carlson answered, turning pale against her blotchy tear-stained face. “I guess they could have hacked into our computers. Before I met Dan, it was just the two of us. I’m a writer and I worked from home, but when I had a field assignment and had to leave, I told Jim I was doing research. He stayed with my parents then. I don’t know. Maybe he became suspicious.” She sniffled. 

Her husband reached for a Kleenex and gently wiped her cheeks. 

It was possible, Andrea admitted. She had researched the couple when Joe called her to bring the picture to his office. Dorothy Beason was a well-known author of romance novels. Did Jim become suspicious and hack into his mother’s computer? Did Lee already know, or did he find out from Jim when their parents got married? 

Joe looked them square in the eye. “Did you bring your laptops?” 

In answer, Dan reached for the duffel he had brought with them. He handed it to Joe who pulled out two laptops. 

“We’ll have the tech department go through these. They can tell if they’ve been hacked.” 

Mrs. Carlson’s eyes were closed, but they both answered with a nod. Andrea felt her throat tighten with sympathy. Right now, they had to proceed with caution. The couple needed to officially identify and claim their son’s body at the morgue. Once that was accomplished, she needed to come up with a plausible story to tell the detectives on the case. She took a deep breath and looked at Joe for guidance. 

“Any ideas?” He asked her instead. 

“I think I can make them believe that Mr. and Mrs. Carlson’s sons were missing, and seeing the reports on TV, they contacted the FBI. The journalists have clearly sensationalized the story as much as possible. It’s well known that we’re involved.” 

“But why wouldn’t we have gone to the police directly,” Dan Carlson asked, sounding more coherent and thoughtful as the facts started sinking in. 

She shrugged. “Scared. Your other son is missing, and you felt safer with the FBI?” 

“Or they can simply go to the police, telling them the same thing. You can be there to monitor and run interference,” Joe said. 

Andrea remained silent as Joe studied his Watchers. Technically, they were under his command. She would gladly do whatever he decided. 

“I think Special Agent Lease’s idea is probably best. That will put your involvement entirely into her chain of custody. It will also keep it closer to the organization. We should do it as quickly as possible.” 

“I can arrange it right away if you are both ready to go to the station with me,” she said to the couple.

They looked at each other, their silent communication telling her all she needed to know. They were frightened, but they would do everything she needed, and she would be there to protect them. 

Joe leaned forward, placing his elbows on his desk. “If Jim has been hacking the system, there’s a good chance he still has computer access, and he’s still monitoring the situation. We’ve already had a security update, and IT is working on a fail-proof fix. But, I’ve asked them to leave your web portals untouched temporarily. I’m going to put out a notice on both your sites, asking Jim or anyone else involved to contact me directly. Since we’ve locked the system down, I’m banking on his friends to try and find out information through you. At this point, I’d even consider offering immunity if anyone will come forward to help us get on top of this.”

Dan and Dorothy Carlson still appeared shell-shocked, but they were clearly amendable to anything the organization required. Everyone stood up. Andrea picked up her briefcase, and turned to follow the boy’s parents from the room.

“Agent Lease,” Joe said, halting her in her tracks.

“One moment,” she said to Mr. and Mrs. Carlson.

Without comment, they stepped outside and closed the door. 

“With the scope of the thefts, we haven’t begun to scratch the surface of everyone involved,” Joe said. 

“You think we’re dealing with Watcher’s kids hacking into their parent’s databases?”

“I don’t think we have enough to go on yet. But, yeah, that would be as good a guess as any,” Joe answered.

Andrea frowned. She was dreading what lay ahead at the precinct, and a headache was beginning to form behind her eyes. “How do you want to proceed? The homicide team I’m working with is getting close. They’ve already connected Battles to Jackie’s murder in New York.”

“I can handle that,” Joe assured her. “Your Director was thorough. Everything is legal, listing the headquarters as a historical society. They’ve already been cleared. Obviously, the department is still going to have to deal with the disappearance of Battles’ body, but that will work to our benefit. It muddles up the investigation, and gives us leeway to take care of everything else.”

She couldn’t help herself; the mention of her Director always brought forth unkind thoughts. She needed to push them from her mind. Now was not the time. 

“I think you’ll have your hands full taking care of Dan and Dorothy today, and I need to get the statements issued on the database,” Joe said, bringing her attention back to the point of their conversation. 

Her face heated. “Joe, I’m sorry. You lost me for a moment.” 

Joe smiled. “It’s okay. We’re all used to pulling double duty. I know it’s harder for you being in the middle of the investigation.”

She sighed in relief. “Yes, it is. But, it’s helpful too. As you were saying, though ….”

“Yeah. Just that you’re going to be dealing with Mr. and Mrs. Carlson today, and I’ll be busy setting everything up. We’ll need to meet soon to go over everything and see what we’ve got. Can you get away from the police station without any suspicion?” 

“No problem. In fact, I plan on checking out of my motel and setting up somewhere else. I’m going to tell the detectives that I’ve been summoned back to Quantico to coordinate their investigation with the FBI. I’ll just have to be careful and make sure we don’t accidently run into each other.” She smiled. 

Joe gave her a tentative smile, for which she was grateful. This mess had fallen right into his lap. At least she had more confidence in him than her own Regional Director. 

“They either need to wear jackets or go home and change into long sleeves. Remind them to be careful and keep their tattoos covered at all times. It may be the last thing on their minds, and what they say will be crucial.” 

Andrea nodded. “Don’t worry, Joe. I’ll stay with them the entire time.” She paused. Did she dare open the window of opportunity? The man sitting on the other side of the desk was handsome and intelligent. She wouldn’t be in Seacouver long, but still …. She took a deep breath. “Joe --”

He looked up, meeting her eyes, his expression both kind and questioning. 

Here goes, she thought. “It’s a pleasure working with you.”

With that, she left his office, not daring to look back as she closed the door. The Carlsons were waiting for her to take them to their son. 

****

~~*~~

The call came in just as Joe was finishing up his last set before closing the club for the night. 

“Joe,” Mike called from behind the bar. 

Joe sat down his guitar, gave an apology to the few patrons still lingering about, and slowly made his way to the bar where Mike was holding up the receiver to the land line. 

He had to sit down once the call was finished. He felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him. Jesus H. Christ. Fishing out Agent Lease’s phone number, he gave her a call, doubting she was awake, but this was too important to wait. He was surprised when she answered on the first ring. They had a couple of hours to spare, so she insisted on stopping by the one Starbucks in the neighborhood that remained open twenty-four hours a day.

Within an hour, she was in Joe’s office, two Lattes in hand, listening to Joe repeat the phone conversation.

When Joe’s cell buzzed, he startled. He and Andrea had been silent, lost in their own thoughts, and the noise was disrupting. Once he was satisfied that his visitors were legitimate, Andrea took the keys to the front door and let them into the bar. Joe should have minded, but, damn, his stumps hurt like hell and he appreciated the gesture. 

A young woman – a girl really – with dark hair and large brown eyes came into the room. A young man, tall, fairly good looking by today’s standards, held her hand as they approached. 

The couple walked around to sit in the chairs Joe had pulled up opposite his desk prior to their arrival.

“Could we get a coke or something?” the young man asked as they sat down. He leaned over and placed a kiss on his girlfriend’s cheek.

Joe nodded, but before he could stand, Andrea rose and went to the bar to get them both something to drink.

Joe examined the couple while she was gone. They were both clearly scared. At him and Andrea, or their parents? Both? He wondered if they suspected how much trouble their parents were in with the organization. This could very easily lead to a Tribunal for every Watcher involved. 

The young Hispanic woman was trembling, although it was warm in the room and she was wearing a jacket. Clearly nerves. The boy – man really -- was doing better at hiding his nervousness, probably trying to hold it together for his girlfriend. Joe commended him. He obviously did care about the young woman, just in the way he touched her hand to calm her down and give her support.

But, hell, that pissed him off too. How could the guy drag his girlfriend into the middle of this mess? How had they hidden this from their parents? Canada? New York? Seacouver? Shit! They’d caused all this havoc. Now one of them was dead, and another was missing. 

At least they came forward, and he remembered the offer of immunity he promised. But, it was only guaranteed immunity if they told the truth. Any lies, or exclusion of the facts, and the whole thing was off. He hoped they were smart enough to remember that.

Once Andrea returned with two glasses of iced coke and coasters, they settled in their seats and introductions were made. Then they told their story: how they’d been hacking into their parent’s files for years, the theft of Immortal heads, the game, the cover-up, how many people were involved. 

Joe sat, gaping at the pair. He had guessed some of the details already, but this went far beyond anything he imagined. Sitting next to him, Andrea Lease was clearly as stunned as he was. 

Then came the most important questions of all. “What happened in the abandoned house that night? Why did Jim make the phone call to Joe? More importantly, where was Jim right now?” Joe and Andrea took turns with their questions, then waited while the couple gathered their courage.

The man who introduced himself as Nick, spoke first, while his girlfriend clung to his hand. 

“Veronica…” He gave his girlfriend a loving look, then focused his attention back to Joe. “hacked into her dad’s files. An Immortal named Zimmerman had arrived in Seacouver looking for MacLeod. You know, the Highlander. But, Zimmerman’s Watcher made an entry that afternoon that Zimmerman had met a female Immortal, and he was challenging her that night instead. We were still behind New York, and we needed heads, so, we, ah --”

Veronica released Nick’s hand, and looked down at her lap. “We called Lee so he and Jim could meet us at the house. We thought we were safe, I mean, we’d been doing this for a couple of months.” 

“It was easy. We already knew how to go into the system and cut off the security cameras and monitors. It’s just get in, grab the head, and get out,” Nick added. 

Joe watched them closely. The girl had already alluded to something they obviously hadn’t prepared for.

_We thought we were safe._

“Okay, so you stole Zimmerman’s head and went back to the house. I assume that’s where you’ve been hanging out this entire time,” Joe prodded. 

“Yeah,” Nick answered. “When we were working. It was within walking distance for Lee and Jim, so they would meet us there. After we got pictures to prove we had the head, we had to get rid of the evidence. Someone on the New York team thought of the cauldrons. You know, so it would look like Satan worshipers if anyone found our hideouts.” 

“And the animals?” Andrea snapped, and Joe could tell she was having a hard time holding her temper.

“We never killed any animals,” Veronica said emphatically as she clenched her fists in her lap. The insinuation had clearly made her angry. Going by her body language, Joe believed her. 

“Where did they come from then?” He asked. 

“Lee and Jim found a dead squirrel one night. It was road kill. Another night they found the remains of a rabbit. But, those were the only ones and they were already dead. I swear it. No way was I going to go along if they were hurting animals.” 

Andrea caught his eye and nodded. They were in agreement, then. At least there was that. 

“And that night?” Joe asked. It was time to get to the heart of the matter. 

Veronica looked to Nick, possibly for guidance. He nodded, then turned his gaze to Joe and Andrea. 

“We got Zimmerman's head and went back to the house. The lock on the back door was already busted when we found the place. There isn’t any electricity so we use kerosene lamps. Veronica and I took the head down to the basement, took the picture, and started the fire under the cauldron to burn the evidence. We didn’t have any animals, but there were still bones and stuff from last time.” He paused and took a deep breath. 

“Nick?" Andrea prodded. 

He took a sip of coke. “Yeah, what I was saying. We had set the fire, and then we heard a noise. It sounded like something had fallen and hit the floor. Then we heard a gunshot. Shit, we panicked.” He looked at Veronica. 

She stared back, eyes huge, but she didn’t respond.

“We didn’t know what the fuck was going on. So, I grabbed the knife and we ran upstairs. The first thing I saw was Lee. He was laid out on the floor with his neck bent at a funny angle.” Nick gulped.

“And?” Andrea asked, her tone only slightly moderated from earlier. 

Joe gave her a warning glance. He wanted information from these two. They needed to feel safe enough to give it to him. She took a deep breath and Joe relaxed.

“Jim was standing there holding a gun. I think it belongs to Lee’s dad. Anyway, the woman, the Immortal; she was just lying there, her chest was all bloody and she looked dead. Then she gasped, and Jim yelled and shot her again. We knew we had to get away, but we didn’t know how much time we had before she'd come back. She killed Lee, and we heard about that lady in New York. The Watcher. So, I stabbed her through the heart with my knife, hoping it would give us enough time to just get the fuck out of there.” 

Nick paused, his face pale as he sipped his coke. Veronica was silently crying beside him, her tears rolling down her cheeks to her neck. 

She sniffed and took the Kleenex Joe handed her. “I grabbed her sword; her coat was open and it was right there. Jim had already freaked and ran out of the house. I think … I think he may have wet his pants. We were all so scared. I mean, we knew Jim didn’t really kill her, but she saw him and he shot her twice. And there was Lee. We were in so much trouble. When Nick and I ran to his car, we saw lights come on in some of the houses. We threw her sword in Nick’s trunk and hightailed it out of there as fast as we could.” 

“Jim’s your friend. Any ideas on how we might find him? He has to be scared half to death.” Joe told them.

“Yeah.” Veronica sniffled again. She had wadded up used Kleenexes and was holding them tightly in her hand. Joe pushed the box closer, and Andrea thoughtfully got up and placed a small wastebasket by her chair. Clearly, she was overwrought, and Joe had to remind himself that she was only seventeen. 

“Thank you,” she replied. She looked up at Andrea and resumed her story. “He’s the only one she saw. He’s afraid she’ll come after him like she did that Watcher in New York.” 

“How did you know about that?” Joe asked, dismayed because that information shouldn’t have been easily accessible.

“We called our friends in New York. They found it in some of the Watcher's files,” Nick supplied. “That’s how we knew who she was when Zimmerman’s Watcher described her in his entry.” 

Joe nodded. If the Watchers didn’t have the deadly Immortal under their control, Jim was probably right. She would go after him. Unfortunately, the Watchers still had to let her go. They couldn’t interfere in Immortal business. But, it was still incumbent on them not to let an Immortal harm one of their own. They were in one hell of a dilemma. 

“I understand, but that still doesn’t help us find Jim,” Andrea said gently to the young woman. 

“Once, we looked up Watcher safe-houses. You know, in case something happened,” Veronica said in a small voice. 

Joe and Andrea gave each other a pointed look. Without comment, Joe turned on his laptop. He doubted Jim had gotten far since he was on foot. He pulled up a list of safe-houses in the general area while he addressed the two kids. “I promised you both immunity. So, here’s how it works. If Jim has internet access, he'll still be monitoring his parent’s portal in the Watcher Network. I'm sure he still has the burner phone he called me with. We’ve already posted a message, asking him to call me and give himself up. If either of you hear from him, you bring him in or let me know immediately. Now you’re going to write down the names of everyone you know who’s involved, including their parent’s names if you know them. Got it?” 

Mumbled “yes sirs” was his answer. Good enough. He gave them each a legal pad and pen. 

****

~~*~~

It only took eight hours before Joe received the call. He recognized the voice from the previous voice mail. Jim sounded just as terrified now as he did that morning. Joe knew he was brittle. It wouldn’t take much for him to run, and Joe couldn’t let that happen. He decided to wait and call Andrea later. Jim had to be handled gently, and that meant Joe had to establish trust. That was better done if he was alone. 

Just as Nick and Veronica suspected, Jim had chosen a Watcher safe-house. Joe had planned on a search of all the close safe-houses, but was afraid that might frighten him off for good. He was glad his patience had paid off. 

Within the hour, he was at the house, waiting patiently while the front door was hesitantly opened. He recognized the seventeen-year-old boy from the picture his parents had provided. At the moment, he was disheveled, and had clearly lost some weight, even though it had only been a few days. But, there wasn’t any food in the house, and Joe knew he probably didn’t have money with him. Even if he did, he would have been too frightened to go out in public. 

Once invited in, Joe sat opposite him on the couch. He kept his voice low and calm, knowing his demeanor could either frighten the boy off or encourage him to talk. 

Joe held out his hand. “Son, you need to hand over the gun.” 

Jim nodded and reached under the couch cushion to pull it out. Without a word, he placed it on the coffee table within Joe’s reach.

Jim’s voice was shaky as he told his story: how he heard the noise and came into the room just in time to see Battles break Lee’s neck and throw his body to the floor. He had the gun, and instinctively pulled it out when he heard Lee’s strangled gasp. 

He had reacted, not even thinking, by shooting her square in the chest. He was aware when Nick and Veronica entered the room, the mayhem as they all realized what had happened, and having to shoot the Immortal again when she came back to life. Nick quickly staked her heart with his knife while yelling at Veronica to get to the car. 

She did, but quickly returned, hysterical, shouting that the neighbors had heard them and were probably calling the police. Veronica grabbed Battles’ sword and they all ran. Nick and Veronica took off in his car, and Jim had run like hell, blindly away from the scene. He knew Nick had started the fire under the cauldron, and hopefully Zimmerman’s head was being roasted. 

Joe grimaced. Okay. He motioned for Jim to continue. 

Luckily, Jim had his iPad and the burner phone they used when they carried out their raids at the Watcher headquarters. When he thought he was safe, he called Joe, leaving him a voice message when he didn’t answer, hoping Joe would beat the police to the scene. 

“Besides Lee, I’m the only one Battles saw. Before the challenge, Bob – from New York,” Jim supplied when Joe looked at him questionably. “read to me what she did to that Watcher. I was afraid she would come after me,” he added pitifully. 

Joe had to admit that the boy was probably right. If she had followed the group, and she definitely saw Jim’s face, it wouldn’t take her long to track both him and his parents down. They were all at risk. 

“Look, I’m not happy with anything you did. You know you’re not supposed to be looking at classified Watcher information,” he told Jim sternly. “But, we’ll keep you and your family safe.”

Jim nodded. “Yes, sir.” 

“I hope it’s finally gotten through to you how dangerous Immortals really are. They’re killers. All of them. Never forget that. Battles should never have had a Watcher to begin with. Since someone screwed up, she knows about us. Because of your screw-up, she knows about you.” 

Jim winced. “Yes, sir.” 

“I’m going to let you off the hook. We have Battles’ body. We took her from the morgue. But, we can’t interfere in Immortal business. The only reason we went this far is to protect the secret about Immortals and Watchers, and to get her away from my district. We’ll have to release her somewhere and take the knife out. You need to understand that.” 

Jim paled. Good. Maybe he was finally understanding how incredibly stupid they had been. 

“I gave Nick and Veronica immunity. I’m offering you the same deal. You’ve already verified their story.” Joe pulled open his briefcase and pulled out a legal pad and a pen. “I want the name of everyone you know who’s involved. And any information you can give us about what’s been going on. Their parent’s names if you know them. Everything,” he said pointedly. 

Jim took the pad and pen. Hand shaking, he began to write. 

**TWO NIGHTS LATER**

Andrea walked into Joe’s Blues Bar. It was two am, time to close, and most of the clientele should have left by now. The room was dark, with the sweet-sour smell of cigarettes and alcohol mixing with lingering perfume and aftershave. 

As she suspected, the last few customers were at the bar paying their tab. The man behind the bar was Mike, who she knew from the Watcher academy. Was he in Seacouver to help Joe with the field work for Duncan McLeod? Working in the bar with Joe would be the perfect cover. From what she’d heard, Joe was friends with his Immortal. The rumor, if that’s what it was, had scandalized most of the Watchers when it made its rounds throughout the organization. 

Joe was on the stage, strumming his guitar, seemingly oblivious to everything around him as he sang a song about passion and loss, with what could only be described as a soulful, deep and gripping voice. She stood inside the door, watching him, enthralled with his talent and grace as he owned the melody his fingers pulled from the strings of the guitar. 

Taking a deep breath, she smoothed down the silky material of her dark red leather-trim sheath dress. The color highlighted the shade of her skin, with her hair only slightly darker as she let the natural tight curls bring out the contours of her face. The straight neckline and spaghetti straps accentuated her shoulders and breasts, while the front left slit allowed a tantalizing peek at her long, slim legs. Her strappy four inch heels added the final touch, lifting her ass and giving her legs added shape that most men couldn’t resist. 

She had added a touch of make-up, lightly circling her eyelids with a deep gray shadow which brought out the charcoal color of her eyes. She finished with a dark red lipstick. She looked damn hot and she knew it. 

Joe was wearing a button down plaid shirt and jeans, his usual attire when he was helping to tend bar and playing a few sets while his band was taking a break. The man looked damned hot too. 

She didn’t mind that they were only meeting for dinner before discussing the case, hopefully wrapping up the few loose ends that would put this near-catastrophe to rest. She was leaving for Quantico soon, something the two homicide detectives thought she had done two days ago. 

“Miss Lease,” Mike addressed her softly. 

She turned, alarmed. She hadn’t heard him approach. Her attention had been completely diverted to the man on the stage. 

“Mike. How are you? When I came in you were finishing up at the bar. I see everyone’s left now.” 

“I’m good. Yeah, finally. Joe has a table set up for you. Here,” he said with a motion of his hand to indicate the way. Her eyes followed his gaze and she smiled. At the back of the bar a table had been set aside, draped with a white table cloth and a center setting of fresh flowers.

She walked with Mike to the table, appreciating his show of courtesy as he pulled out her chair. It wasn’t until he brought two glasses of water, empty wine glasses and a bottle of chilled wine before she realized the music had stopped.

****

~~~~~

Joe sat down his guitar, picked up his cane and eased off the stage. He had seen Andrea walk in. It had taken all his willpower to finish the song. A man would have to be blind not to notice how beautiful she was. It also made him aware of his own apparel. Did he have time to go upstairs to shower and change? Probably not, since Mike had already taken her to their table and brought out the wine. 

Looking around, he was glad the few remaining customers had left. Mike had agreed to serve them, and being a Watcher, they didn’t have to worry about anyone else listening in. 

“Thanks for coming,” he said as he sat down. “I’m sorry I didn’t have time to clean up ….” He paused, his words halted as he registered her formal attire. When she walked in, he had been so enamored by her appearance that it never occurred to him that she might have other plans.

_No fool …._

“Do you have a prior engagement this evening? We can do this later.” 

“No,” she laughed. She was charming. That wasn’t helping his sense of unease. Hell, after he set everything up, why hadn’t he taken the time to end his session early? Had it been that long since he romanced a lady? Not that their relationship could go anywhere. She was leaving soon, and most likely, their paths would never cross again.

“Joe, you’re the only engagement I have tonight. I just felt like dressing up a bit. I hope you don’t mind. I simply don’t get as many opportunities as I’d like. I’m sure you understand.” 

“That I do,” he sighed. She dressed up for their meeting? He smiled, then coughed in embarrassment as Mike approached their table. “Has everything been delivered?” He asked. 

“Yeah, I have it set out to be served whenever you’re ready,” Mike answered, then left as quickly as possible, presumably to go back to the kitchen.

Joe didn’t blame him. He was feeling a bit out of his element too. Since when did Joe Dawson have romantic evenings with a beautiful woman? That was MacLeod’s area. Or it used to be. Before a certain very old _male_ Immortal inserted himself in their lives.

“Look, I’m sorry. I just didn’t think --”

“Joe, it’s fine. Why are you so nervous? Are you afraid I’ll try to seduce you?” She smiled and motioned to the romantic setting of the table. “I think I might be the one to worry.” 

“Would you mind?” He asked.

“No,” she whispered. “I wouldn’t.” 

His cock jumped. Damn!

Her face lit up with a smile.

She reached out and took his hand. “You’re a very attractive man, Joe Dawson. What woman wouldn’t feel privileged to be with you?” 

Joe felt his face heat, and wondered how that was possible since most of his blood had traveled south.

Mike was trying to appear busy behind the empty bar, so Joe cleared his throat. “Mike, why don’t you go on home. I think we’re fine here now.” 

“You sure, Joe?”

“Yeah, tell me how you have the food laid out?”

“The salads are open and ready to serve. The salmon is warming in the oven. Bread is in the warmer.” 

Andrea raised a brow.

“We had dinner catered. I hope you like Bourbon Glazed Salmon.” Joe told her.

“I love it. Why don’t you stay here, make sure our wine glasses are filled, and I’ll bring out dinner?” 

“Andrea, you don’t ….”

“Nonsense. It’ll be easier for me and I don’t mind. Let me help, Joe.” 

With that, she got up and headed for the kitchen. Joe watched her walk across the floor in her sky-high heels, and decided food was the last thing on his mind. 

****

~~~~~

“That’s how I became a Watcher,” he said softly. Even he could hear the ache in his voice. Speaking about that horrible time, when he lost the life he knew, along with his legs, brought back the pain, a small hole of heartache he could never fill.

She reached out and took his hand, allowing him to take comfort in her presence until he was ready to continue. Finally, he sighed and squeezed her hand, letting her know he was ready to surrender the past and move on.

“My first and only field assignment has been Duncan MacLeod. I guess you’ve heard the rumor that we’ve become friends,” he stated matter-of-factly. This was the test, he thought. He knew she must have heard the stories. Many Watchers admired him. Just as many thought he was a traitor, and felt his promotion to Regional Director was a slap in the face to the organization. He didn’t care what they thought. He did care what the beautiful woman in front of him thought. What did she think about his relationship with Mac?

She smiled, and he couldn’t help noticing how straight and white her teeth were. Why would he notice something like that? Hell, everything about this woman was perfect. Which brought him back to his point. _Stay on target, Dawson._

“A Watcher becoming friends with his assignment? I’ve heard the rumors, Joe. Although, I guess if it’s true it isn’t really a rumor, is it? I also heard that MacLeod found you after Horton murdered Darius. I don’t think you had a choice. I’ve always commended your honesty and strength in that situation. He could have killed you.” 

“There were moments when I wasn’t sure I would get out of the situation alive. He was past pissed about Darius, and I didn’t believe him about Horton. Hell, the man was my brother-in-law. It could have easily escalated into a war between Immortals and Watchers. I didn’t have a choice. If I hadn’t come completely clean about who we were, Mac would have torn the organization apart.” 

“Then don’t beat yourself up over it. What the other Watchers think doesn’t matter. They weren’t put in that situation. The top brass has changed, and you’ve been exonerated. Joe, your relationship with your assignment doesn’t bother me. We don’t have to mention it again if you don’t want to.” 

He smiled, thankful for her candor and understanding. If only she could stay in Seacouver – with him. Of course, he knew that was impossible. She was already due back in Virginia. 

He couldn’t help but wonder, though. How would she feel if she knew Mac wasn’t the only Immortal he was friendly with: Amanda, Richie, Connor MacLeod, all the other Immortals who came and went in Mac’s life? Adam Pierson? Jesus H. Christ. If she only knew. Hell, if anyone knew who Mac was really involved with, Joe would probably get executed by the Watcher tribunal.

****

~~~~~

Once dinner was over, they both took their wine back to Joe’s office to go over the files. 

“I contacted all the Regional Directors. Everyone involved with the thefts were Watcher’s children – teenagers mostly. Hell, one of the kids in Canada is only fifteen years old. Some of them have been hacking into our database for years. Their parents have been doing one hell of a job keeping their secret lives secret,” Joe complained as Andrea sat down beside him at his desk. 

“Orphans,” Andrea said softly. “When Veronica handed me the list of names, she said they were Watcher orphans. When their parents are assigned to an Immortal, they feel abandoned. It's no wonder they reached out to each other and formed a support group." She touched Joe's arm gently. "I'm sure finding out about Immortals was exciting to them. After all, here's this secret race of people who can live forever, and no one knows about them except their parents - and now them. I can't imagine them _not_ wanting to get involved in some way."

Joe looked at her as if she'd grown another head. She almost laughed, but decided the best course of action would be to qualify her position instead. Quickly. "Don't get me wrong, Joe. I'm not saying that I think what they did was okay. Far from it. They hacked into our files and stole confidential information. Of course, they have to be held accountable. As do their parents. I'm just saying that I can understand their position. I know it's easy to blame the parents, but it has to be difficult when you have children, and then have to keep up with an assignment, too. Watching an Immortal is time consuming. You always have to worry about missing something crucial,” she said kindly. 

“Yeah, I get that," Joe admitted. "We have a lot of issues we’re going to need to address. This has really turned the organization on its ear. We’ve already decided home security is going to be added to the curriculum at the academy,” Joe said as he pulled up the Watcher web site on his computer. With a click of the keys, he bypassed several screens until he found the one he needed. 

Andrea took a sip of her wine while she waited for Joe to pull up the memorandum he dictated and carbon copied to all the Regional Managers in North America and Europe. She had to admit that he had been very concise in his report about the events leading up to this situation. To repeat his words earlier at dinner, “It was a real mess.” 

In addition to his report, there were a list of recommendations, including sanctions against all the Watchers involved, and a suggestion to confiscate all Watcher laptops and desktops in order to see which ones may have been hacked. At this point, it wasn’t clear if the only computers compromised belonged to the parents of the kids involved. 

A Tribunal was scheduled in a month to decide what further actions needed to be taken. Right now, it wasn’t clear how the Watchers intended to go forward with the teenagers or the parents.

“I’m impressed,” she said as she read through the report.

“Thanks, but I’m not nearly finished. We need a thorough investigation, but I wanted the sanctions to start as soon as possible. Benson needs to answer for his decision to put a Watcher on an Immortal who’s been on a “too dangerous to watch” list for decades. I have a feeling before this is done, there’s going to be a lot to answer for. Benson isn’t the only one we’re concerned about.” 

“Should I ask?” 

He shook his head. “Not yet. But, if you’re available, I might like you to be present at the Tribunal when the time comes.” 

She smiled and reached over to squeeze his hand gently. “I’ll see what I can do.” 

He brought her hand to his lips for a soft kiss, then settled back in his chair. He appeared thoughtful. She waited until he picked up his wine and turned his attention back to her before speaking. 

“I guess it was just a fluke when Lee met up with the group in New York last year,” she said, bringing the conversation back to the now. 

“Yeah, it seems like the kids in New York were the catalyst for everything that’s happened.”

“Do we actually know who the ringleader is? This scheme was pretty elaborate.”

“Not for sure, but we have our suspicions. Connor MacLeod’s Watcher retired five years ago, and Bryce Johnson took over. No one knows why, but MacLeod suddenly packed up and moved to Scotland ten years ago, close to where he lived with his first wife, Heather. Then two years ago, he just as suddenly decided to move back to New York. When he arrived, Johnson and his family followed him. 

“From the little bit Bryce and his wife could tell me, their son, William, became interested in computers at a young age. Hell, he put his first one together when he was only twelve. There were signs that he was becoming obsessed, but they thought it was all pretty innocent. All the kids he hung around with were technologically sophisticated. It never occurred to them that he might be hacking into other people’s computers. Certainly, not their own.”

“So, mom and dad didn’t take any special measures to keep the Watcher site secure, and William was helping himself to classified information,” Andrea surmised. 

“That’s about the size of it. Now that the Highlander was in New York, the inevitable happened. Immortals started coming out of the woodwork. Every smart-ass wanting to make a name for himself came after his head. And, with the Immortals, came their Watchers.” 

“But not all of them had kids, surely?” Andrea asked. 

“Nah, which is a damn good thing. But, enough of them did, and with their parent’s computer files, it was easy to find each other.”

“So, Lee meets the group in New York, and finds out that they’ve been hacking their parent’s files, just like he had. Then one of them comes up with this crazy scheme,” Andrea said. It was amazing how quickly the pieces were falling into place now. 

“Then Lee and Jim’s parents got married, and it turns out that Jim had been in his mother’s files when she was watching her first assignment, Darryl Gibson,” Joe said, continuing the narrative.

“Gibson? The name’s not familiar.” Andrea frowned.

“No reason it should be. He wasn’t a big player. I don’t know why the hell he thought he could take out Mac. Unless he was planning on committing suicide.” 

“Have you ever wondered, Joe?” 

“Wondered what?” 

“If some Immortals do want to commit suicide? If it becomes too much for them to handle, all the fighting, hiding if they aren’t good enough to survive on their own?”

“I guess they could,” Joe admitted. “It might be a good research project if you ever decide you want to leave the FBI.” 

“I’ll keep that option open.” Andrea smiled. “But going after one of the Highlanders?” 

“Well, if suicide’s their mission, it would be a good way to make sure they succeeded.” 

****

~~~~~

Joe reached for the bottle of wine and refilled her glass, hoping she wouldn’t follow up with questions about Mac. That was a tenuous situation with the Watchers. 

“So,” she continued, “Lee and Jim discovered that they had both been spying on their respective parent, and Lee had already hooked up with at least one of the kids from New York.” 

Joe hid his relief with a gulp of wine. Good girl. “And from there it just took off. We’re still putting together how the Canadian group ended up in the middle of things.” 

Andrea shrugged. “It sounds like you’re on top of it. I’m sure you’ll have all the answers before long. Mike told me you have a Blues Bar in Paris. How do you run both businesses?” 

“It’s not easy, but Mike and I have it worked out. Mac goes to Paris six months out of the year, and since I don’t want to sit on my ass waiting for something to happen, I decided to open a Paris branch of Joe’s. Mike takes care of things here when I’m gone, and I have someone to manage the place in Paris when we come back to Seacouver.”

“A Watcher?” 

“In Paris? Nah. There’s some good people there. I don’t need a Watcher to handle things. Besides, sometimes it’s a relief not having to deal with Watchers and Immortals all the time.”

“I hope that doesn’t apply to me,” Andrea said haltingly. 

Joe set down his glass of wine and turned to face her. Pressing close, he brought her mouth to his, enjoying the softness of her lips, the taste of her, and the hungry way she responded as she wrapped her arms around his neck. 

He knew he made the right choice when she eased over onto his lap. 

****

~~*~~

Joe grumbled – loudly. They had gotten to bed late, and to sleep even later. Andrea was snuggled up next to him, her arm across his chest. Her scent was sweet, as were the remnants of their long and heated lovemaking. So, who the hell was calling him at …. He looked at his bedside clock. Eight in the morning? Even if he hadn’t spent the night not sleeping, he wouldn’t have closed down the bar and gotten into bed until well after three. 

“Yeah,” he growled into his iPhone. Beside him, Andrea, now awake, shifted to rest her weight on her elbow. She looked down at him, waiting. Why did she have to look so damn good when he knew he was a wreck?

“Dawson? Ben Wright with the New York region. Sir, I don’t know what happened, but Battles’ body disappeared sometime during the night.”

“What?!” Joe sat up suddenly, jostling Andrea aside. 

“Joe, what is it?” Andrea asked, concern etched in her tone. 

“Look, tell me everything; I want it straight. I’m putting you on speaker. Special Agent Lease is here.” Let the asshole guess why. 

“Yes, sir. I’m part of the team taking care of Battles’ body. There are five of us from the Northeast Region. Our mission was to fly her out of LUX to France. All the needed paperwork was being prepared for her body to be delivered to her family in Paris. Once there, we were supposed to take her out of Paris to an undisclosed location, where another team was going to meet us. Once we were safely on our way back to New York, they were going to take out the knife and tranquilize her. They felt that would give them enough time to get away before she came to.” 

“Let me guess, she came to before they got her sedated and she killed someone,” he said with a tinge of regret. 

“No sir. Not exactly.” 

“What then?” Andrea asked, her brow furrowed with confusion. Joe was wondering the same damn thing.

“We never made it to Los Angeles. We’re at a safe-house, waiting for the final paperwork to come through. It was supposed to be taken care of already, but something happened, and it got bungled up.” 

“Okay, so you’re still in Washington waiting for the paperwork? I take it you idiots didn’t remove the knife yourselves?” Joe asked.

“No, of course not. I wish I could tell you exactly what happened. We were taking shifts guarding her coffin, but one night … I don’t know. It’s like we’d been tranquilized ourselves. We had plenty of drugs on hand in case the unthinkable happened and she came to. It was safely guarded as well. Then we were just out cold; everyone went down at the same time. The next morning, when we came to, all of us had a pounding headache, our mouths were dry, and we were nauseous.”

“That does sound like they were drugged,” Andrea said thoughtfully. “Were any of your tranquilizers missing when you woke up?” She asked them. 

“Yes, ma’am. All of them.” 

The voice coming over the phone sounded befuddled and embarrassed. Joe couldn’t blame them for what happened. Hell, this entire situation had been one screw-up after the other from the get-go. He had to agree with Andrea’s assessment. But who could be behind this? And why? Was someone working with Battles? 

“Are you sure no one was following you? We didn’t have any reason to suspect anyone was working with Battles,” Joe said.

“We were very careful, sir. The logistics were worked out with your team and Special Agent Lease. We didn’t deviate in any way.” 

“They’re right, Joe. That’s how we set it up. And I personally did the paperwork. There’s no reason it shouldn’t have been delivered on time so they could leave for LA. It was impeccable.” 

“Okay, shit, we’ll handle it here. I suggest you get the first flight home to New York. If Battles is free, she might come after anyone she thinks may be involved.” 

After hanging up, Joe sat up and turned to his lover. “Hell of a morning after, huh?” 

“It happens,” Andrea laughed. 

“Yeah, well, she’s out there. Someone was damn well interfering with our plans. If she’s free, she’ll want revenge. That’s one thing I think everyone can count on.” 

“I agree,” Andrea said. “Look, while you get cleaned up, I’ll slip on my dress and head down to my car. Since I planned on heading back to Quantico, all my luggage is in my trunk. I’ll grab some clean clothes and some toiletries, and we’ll get started on taking care of this mess.” 

"I thought you were going to get another motel room and go back in a couple of days," Joe said, confused. _Wasn't that what she said?_

"I know. That's what I was going to do," she said softly. "But, then I thought about the possibility of running into someone working the case, and decided it might not be the best idea. I'm sorry I didn't tell you." 

Joe studied her. She seemed sincere. But, what about last night? She couldn't have planned on wearing that outfit on a plane back to Virginia. He felt queasy, and he didn't think it was just because he hadn't had enough sleep. Dammit, the only way to know for sure was to ask her. 

"Look, maybe I'm wrong, but I need some answers here. If you were planning on going back, what about last night? What was that about?"

"You're right, Joe. I did have an agenda last night," she admitted. "I was hoping you would ask me to stay --" She looked away, and although it wasn't easy to gauge with her skin tone, he swore he could almost see her blush with embarrassment. She brought her gaze back to his. "And, if you want me to stay until the case is closed, I hope you know what my answer would be." 

Suddenly, he felt better, and the shit going down with Battles didn't faze him nearly as much. "Lady, you're welcome here as long as you want." He grinned. "Now, what about those clothes you were going to bring up from your car?"

Fifteen minutes later, high on adrenaline and caffeine, they sat at Joe’s small dining room table to work up a plan. 

“Laureen Battles knows Jim’s face. There’s a good chance she’s worked out where he lives, which means she probably knows his parents are Watchers too,” Andrea posited.

Joe agreed. “Why don’t you work on getting Jim and his parents to a safe place. I have a couple of things I need to check out before we make our next move.” 

“Sure.” Andrea looked at him, clearly puzzled.

He hoped she wouldn’t ask any more questions, but there was something about the way the paperwork had been sabotaged that bothered him. Once they knew the system had been compromised, they immediately had the website taken down while new security software and password apps were put in place. The paperwork should have gone through and been delivered without a hitch. 

He made a phone call to the Information Technology department. An hour later, they called back. They hadn’t found anything malicious in the new software that would have made the system vulnerable or easily compromised. 

The Carlsons’ websites had been strictly monitored, and once Jim had been located, his parents’ security clearances had been revoked, and their web portals closed down. 

The Watcher website was absolutely secure. However, that obviously wasn’t the case. Or else the youth of the world were a hell of a lot more sophisticated than any of them ever imagined. Either way, their newly overhauled system needed a major overhaul. 

Ironically, one-time Watcher, Adam Pierson, was the best man for the job. He could easily come up with a fail-safe system. He was also the one person Joe didn’t want digging around in their files. Joe harrumphed. 

Andrea looked at him questionably while she continued her conversation on her cell. She would have Jim and his parents to a safe location soon. They both agreed, that with this new security leak, she needed to stay with them. 

And Joe needed to visit “young Adam Pierson” to see what information he could pull out of the cantankerous Immortal. This was something Andrea didn’t need to be a part of. In fact, if she had any idea what he was planning to do, he might end up being sanctioned himself. 

****

~~*~~

Joe walked into the dojo, then paused at the doorway while Duncan MacLeod continued a graceful kata. Even though his own body had been torn apart in Vietnam, Joe never begrudged anyone else their strength and agility. Too bad some Watchers hadn’t figured that out. It’s why so many of them hated their assignments: envy, hatred, coveting Immortals their youth and strength, craving what they could never have. They seemed to forget the part about other Immortals trying to cut off their heads. No, Joe didn’t envy Duncan MacLeod one little bit. 

“Joe?” 

Joe nodded. “Mac. I didn’t mean to disturb you.” 

“No problem. I was just finishing up. Come on up.” He tucked a towel around his shoulders and started toward the lift. 

Joe followed, knowing Mac would hold the gate as long as he needed. 

The lift had them at the loft within a couple of minutes, and Duncan led them inside. 

Joe looked around. “Don’t tell me I’ve missed the old man again?”

“He’ll be home soon. He just had some errands to run. Let me get some coffee brewing while I get cleaned up.” 

Joe sat down at the kitchen island, his mind churning with questions as he watched Mac set up the coffee maker. 

Soon, Mac was clean, dressed and sitting at the counter with him. 

“How’s the investigation going? There hasn’t been anything in the headlines in a couple of days,” Duncan said. He set a plate of doughnuts and two saucers on the counter. 

Joe initially refused the offer, then changed his mind. A sugar high might give him the added energy he needed for this conversation. Once he had a raspberry filled doughnut on a saucer, he sipped his coffee and thought about his answer. 

“We’ve pretty much got it figured out. I don’t think there’s going to be any more problems. Nothing for you or Methos to worry about.” 

“You sure? I’ve heard there’s been a lot of cyber-attacks lately. Major companies aren’t safe. There’s even been some reported at the Pentagon; no one’s immune. It’s amazing what some kids are able to do now. They don’t know how much trouble they can get into.” 

Joe froze with his doughnut mid-air. “Do you know something, Mac?” 

“Me? It just reminds me of the system Methos set up before he left the Watchers. They replaced it with a different security system, didn’t they?” 

Joe placed his doughnut back on his saucer, took a sip of coffee, and winced as it burned the tip of his tongue. “Yeah, they did. I don’t imagine anyone around here has found a loophole and been poking around?” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Duncan answered, giving Joe the innocent look he'd learned from his Immortal lover. Luckily, neither one of them had Joe fooled.

“The rumor is that one of the bodies was an Immortal, and you had to sneak her out of the morgue,” Duncan said evenly, as if it were common knowledge. 

“How the hell do you know that?” Joe demanded sharply. 

“Immortal grapevine. Word gets around.” 

“Uh, huh. What do you know, Mac? Specifically?”

“Me? Nothing. We just heard that an Immortal was at the house where the bodies were found. And the head they found was stolen from the Watcher’s morgue. Evidently there’s been a lot of leaks. Like I said, word gets around.” Duncan shrugged and motioned toward the living room. “Let’s get more comfortable if we’re going to have this conversation.” 

“I’ll tell you about comfortable,” Joe sniped. “I’ve had a good two hours sleep before I found out a group of Watchers were drugged, while an Immortal’s dead body was stolen right out from under their noses.” 

“Stolen? You took it from the morgue, and someone took it from you?”

“Yeah, imagine that, and what the hell are you grinning at? The woman’s dangerous, and she knows about Watchers. She knows where the New York Satellite building is, as well as ours. She’s already tortured and killed one Watcher that we know of.” 

“I know.” Duncan placed his coffee cup on the end table and leaned back on the couch, encouraging Joe to do the same.

“Don’t worry, Joe. I doubt you’ll have to worry about Laureen Battles any longer. The word’s out, and there’s a lot of people who would love to take her head. She’s going to be too busy running to worry about Watchers.”

“Know that for a fact, do you? And how the hell did you know it was Laureen Battles?”

“I told you, rumors.” Duncan grinned. 

Joe scowled. His cell rang, and he reached into his front pocket. Recognizing Andrea’s number, he contemplated stepping into the kitchen to talk privately. But, dammit, he’d have to wrestle off the couch, and what the hell was the point, anyway? He had a feeling Mac almost knew as much as he did.

“How’s it going?” 

Screw Duncan MacLeod. It was none of his business. 

“I got Jim and his parents to safety, but honestly, Joe, I’m not sure it’s needed. I just got a call from Battles’ team. There was a freak electrical storm sometime during the night or early morning while they were still knocked out. It was in a remote area just outside the city limits where their safe-house is located. When the utility team arrived to investigate, they found a headless body.” 

“Let me guess, female? Looks like Laureen Battles?” 

“Yes, and I don’t know yet. First, there was no head, just the body. And, secondly, since no one knew about the challenge our people weren’t on site to clean up. She’s being sent to the Medical Examiner in Seattle.” 

“Fucking great,” Joe cursed.

“Joe?” The concern in Andrea’s voice cut across the line. Shit, he’d never used that kind of gutter language in front of her. 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. It’s just been a bit too much this morning already.”

“It’s okay.” Her voice was gentle and he felt his tension abate. “Why don’t I meet you and we can brainstorm?” 

He wanted to say yes, but Duncan MacLeod was looking at him with amusement. Sure, just tell another Watcher to come to his Immortal’s home to talk over a situation about the organization. 

“Look, Andrea, that’s not a good idea right now. I’m not where we can meet.” He turned to scowl at Duncan. “Let me give you a call back in a bit.” 

“Okay. Sure, Joe. How is Duncan MacLeod? I imagine you need to catch up on his chronicles since you’ve been so tied up lately.”

Her voice was full of laughter. That woman. Of course, she knew. He smiled. “Yeah, I’m behind. Besides, if my theory is right, our problem may have already been taken care of.” 

He signed off, dropped his cell back into his pocket and shook his head.

“I didn’t know you and Special Agent Lease had become … close,” Duncan said with a grin. 

Joe felt his face heat. Damned Immortal. Before he could retort, his cell buzzed in his pocket again. 

“Dawson,” he answered gruffly. 

“Joe?” Andrea. He hadn’t looked at the number before answering. This morning was going just great.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t look at the number, and someone is pissing me off.” He glared at Duncan. 

“Well, this should make you feel better. It’s just been confirmed that the Immortal was Battles, and I don’t know how, but her body disappeared on its way to Seattle.” 

“What?” He bellowed. 

“I’m almost scared to say it, but someone has been doing our job for us.” 

“Yeah,” Joe answered. It was almost too good to be true. He looked at Duncan, and once again, wondered where the oldest Immortal was. What was that old bastard up to? 

“I’ll check a few things out and get back with you. Let me know if anything else happens, okay?” 

“Sure. Goodbye, Joe.” She clicked off and Joe felt his chest tighten. Not, see you later, but 'goodbye.' Why did that sound so final? 

Yeah, that was life. Wasn’t it grand? He doubted he would get anything else out of Mac, but Andrea was right. He hadn’t put any entries in Mac’s chronicle in at least a week. While he was here, he might as well get caught up. 

The conversation was easier once Joe decided to shelve his suspicions. With these two, he’d find out soon enough. But, not before they were ready.

An hour later, he noticed Mac tense, then relax as the lift was called down to the dojo. As he suspected, a few minutes later Methos walked into the loft. Mac got up to meet him as soon as he stepped out of the lift. The kiss was easy to ignore, the whispered conversation wasn’t. 

Methos took off his coat and hung it on the coat rack. He pulled out the Ivanhoe and walked into the living room appearing completely relaxed, as if it were perfectly normal to be wearing ripped clothing, covered in blood, and holding a sword, although wiped down, had obviously been used in battle recently.

“Joe, it’s been awhile. I was beginning to wonder when you were coming to visit,” Methos said calmly.

“Yeah, I was too busy trying to figure out who the hell’s been hacking into the Watcher data base. I have a feeling more people than I originally thought have been helping themselves to information.” 

“Really?” Methos handed Duncan his Ivanhoe and went to the kitchen for a beer. Duncan gathered the materials needed to clean the sword and sat down on the couch, obviously content to take care of the task for his lover. 

“I need to get cleaned up,” Methos announced, then turned to Joe. “You really need to get a security upgrade, Joe. Anyone could go into the system you have now and screw around with – things. Documents,” he said while pulling out a clean pair of jeans from the dresser. “Airline tickets,” he added while taking out a new sweater. “Travel documents.” He grinned and headed to the bathroom without a look back. 

“Son of a bitch!” 

****

~~*~~

Lieutenant Coleman thumbed through the papers on his desk, trying to put some semblance of order to the multitude of cases his homicide department was working on. He didn’t want to appear too neat, making the temptation to snoop easy for anyone who walked in when he wasn’t around. He could just lock his office, and he sometimes did, but he found that simple action sometimes led to departmental gossip, which he abhorred. 

‘What was the Lieutenant planning?’ seemed to be a running game. Why, he didn’t know. Yes, he kept things close to his chest. He didn’t give hints about promotions – or demotions, who would warrant the more sensational cases, the ones which would bring kudos to the detectives involved. His attitude to the press and public that the entire department deserved praise, instead of singling out specific officers, made him unpopular. But, he made sure the detective’s work was well documented in their files. It would pay off for them if they held the line and remained part of the team.

He was about to face some of that criticism now from Kristen Vest, one of his most valued lead homicide detectives. She and her partner, Henry Cord did an outstanding job in the ‘Satanic Cult’ case, although he knew evidence had been tampered with, and much of the information they needed was kept confidential. 

The problem was that Detective Vest was just arrogant enough to question his decisions and outcomes of some of their cases. He knew she was also angry that he questioned Detective Cord’s ability to remain a viable member of the team. 

He didn’t want to force the Detective out of the department. Far from it. His experience was invaluable. But, out in the field he was becoming a liability. When his wife left him the year before, he took it hard, understandably, and his decisions were suspect on many occasions. 

Cord seemed to improve after he was forced to see a therapist, but even though he pulled himself out of his depression, physically he fell apart. He had gained at least another fifty pounds on his already too heavy body. It was doubtful he could defend himself, and his partner could be put in unnecessary danger.

Still, he tried to keep the morale of this team up, refused to allow a hostile work environment, and offered his detectives a safe place in his office to air their grievances.

Now he was waiting for his two top detectives so he could update them on their case. A case he could now close. He knew there would be dissention, but that was the way it was. 

He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. What was taking them so long? They were supposed to be back at the precinct over an hour ago. He could already feel a small headache gathering between his eyes. His wife was waiting for him; for the first time in two weeks he was going to get home at a reasonable hour. A quiet dinner with his wife was just what he needed. 

He heard the chatter outside his office and knew the two detectives had finally arrived. He put back on his glasses, scooted his chair back, and got up to meet them at his office door. He motioned them inside. 

“Thank you for meeting with me. I know it’s late,” he addressed them both equally. 

Detective Cord nodded his greeting. Detective Vest mumbled something incoherent. 

“I’ve read your updates regarding the case.” He looked up from the file he had open on his desk, appearing to read through the contents, although it was only for show. He had his information memorized. 

“We’re working with the New York detectives on the torture-homicide case from earlier in the year, and we believe we have enough solid evidence to connect our female victim to their unsub,” Kristen Vest interrupted before he could continue.

“Yes, I see you’ve worked every angle; your work has been impeccable. However, the case has now been officially turned over to the FBI,” he said without inflection.

“Sir?” Detective Cord asked. 

“The FBI? Why?” Vest was more to the point. Lieutenant Coleman didn’t hold that against her. In fact, now this gave him the opening he needed. 

He straightened his tie and looked at them with his best ‘do not interrupt me’ expression. “There are two reasons the FBI has taken over the case. First, due to the Satanic Cult aspect. Now, back several decades ago, the FBI ruled out any true Satanic activity. However, we now have evidence linking three different jurisdictions to the same activity we’re investigating in Seacouver. And, as you just stated, Detective,” he said to Kristen Vest directly, “we have evidence that our female victim tortured and murdered a woman in New York. The FBI now has information linking her to the death of our male victim, Lee Carlson.” 

“And that takes it out of our hands,” Detective Cord said.

The man was pragmatic. Another reason he didn’t want to let him go from the department. 

“Like hell!” Kristen stood up and paced in front of his desk. She stopped and turned on him sharply. “Exactly, how does that pull us off the case? We’ve worked with other jurisdictions in the past, and we’ve come up with enough evidence to almost close New York’s case.” 

“Really?” Lieutenant Coleman asked, putting just the right amount of sarcasm in his tone. “We have two identities on the female. You still don’t know her true identity or where she’s been prior to New York. At the moment, you don’t know if she was working alone, why she killed the Carlson boy, or how she’s involved in the Cult activity. The fact is, Detective, you have nothing.” 

“Sir, what does the FBI know? How are they going to proceed?” Detective Cord asked, which gave his partner a moment to sit down and gather herself. 

Lieutenant Coleman was glad for the respite. Just get through this, he thought. Go home and have a nice relaxing soak in the tub, and a quiet dinner with Debbie. His wife knew what his job entailed, and she’d been wonderful. He just needed to move this along. 

“I wish I could tell you more. But, for all the insanity about the rituals, there is still the probability that Blankenship, or whoever the hell she is, is a serial killer. I shouldn’t have to remind you that we still haven’t located her body?” He asked rhetorically. 

Closing the file, he leaned forward, placing his elbows on his desk. “Therefore, until the FBI has completed a full, thorough investigation, everything is classified. It’s my understanding that Interpol is now working with the FBI on this case. I’m sure I can count on your discretion. That is all.” 

Lieutenant Coleman stood up to signal that the meeting had come to an end. “You both did an outstanding job, and I appreciate your dedication. I’ll give a press conference tomorrow, assuring the community there’s no reason for fear.”

“Thanks,” Kristen said, not quite sarcastic, but certainly half-hearted. 

He would take it. 

“Yeah, we’ll see you tomorrow.” Detective Cord held out his hand to the Lieutenant. 

Lieutenant Coleman shook his detective’s hand, then walked them both to the door. Once he was alone, he locked the door and went back to his desk. Picking up his cell, he called his wife.

“Baby, I’m on my way home.”

“Good. You’ve been practically sleeping at your office this week.” 

“I know, but it’s over now. We handed everything over to Special Agent Lease. I’ll be home soon. Love you.” 

Clicking off his phone, he slipped it into the pocket of his suit jacket, then tugged down his sleeve, making sure the tattoo on his inner wrist was well hidden. It was time to go home. 

****

THE END


End file.
